


Following Blue

by Boogum



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Blutara - Freeform, F/M, The Blue Spirit - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-20 06:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boogum/pseuds/Boogum
Summary: One waterbender, one masked swordsman, and an ostrich-horse named Scratch. They didn't seem to have much in common, but circumstance changes everything, and sometimes new friendships will be formed whether you want them to or not. Just ask the Blue Spirit.





	1. The Blue Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Следуя за Синим](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564043) by [blahblahbayern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahblahbayern/pseuds/blahblahbayern)



> This is the extended version of 'Stranger', which was originally written as a response to a 2012 Zutara Month prompt in the _Where the Ocean and Sky Collide _collection (found on FFN).__
> 
> __I warn you that it is an old story. I would write it differently now, but for nostalgia's sake you're going to get it in all its old, cheesy glory. Enjoy!_ _

Katara didn't know how long she had been walking. It had been night when she had first woken, bruised and covered in cuts from her fall, but now she could see the golden glow of the sun making its way into the horizon. Unfortunately, there was still no sign of Appa and her friends.

She sighed and continued to follow the dusty road, trying not to think about how tired, sore and thirsty she was. Her water skin was half full and the weight of the encased liquid brushing against her thigh was far too tempting for its own good, but she couldn't risk drinking anymore. That water was her only source of bending right now. Until she found a stream or well to refill her depleting stock, she would just have to resign herself to being thirsty.

"Just keep walking," she told herself. "If there's a road, there's bound to be a village somewhere around here."

In her heart, however, she knew that her need to keep moving was just a means to distract her from the truth: that she was completely lost and had no idea when or even how her brother and friends were going to find her when so many hours had passed. It was a depressing thought, and one she tried to banish from her mind as much as possible. Better to focus on the positives. Better to focus on the fact that she was alive and hadn't broken any bones from her fall. Better to—

Suddenly, her vision was blocked by a wall of brownish green. No, not a wall. A man's chest. She took a step back, raising her gaze to his face, which was pockmarked and looked as if someone had taken a shovel to his features. He bared his teeth in a smile, but there was nothing friendly in the expression.

"Well, well, well," the man said, resting his broadsword on his left shoulder, "seems we've caught ourselves a stray."

Low chuckles echoed around her, and it was with sickening dread that she realised her tormentor was not alone. Two men had appeared from the rocks, flashing their weapons in a silent threat as they came to stand on either side of the squashed-face man. Her heart thudded against her ribs and she instinctively reached for her water skin, taking hold of the swirling element inside but not letting it escape just yet.

"Let me pass," she said in a voice that was far calmer than she felt.

More laughter.

Squashed Face stepped forward. "Sorry, sweetheart, but this is our territory. You pay the fee or you don't pass."

Katara swallowed. "I don't have any money."

Squashed Face looked her up and down through his beady eyes, lingering on her chest and hips. "Oh, don't worry," he said in an oily voice. "I'm sure we can come to a different arrangement."

She took another step back, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around her body to protect herself from his defiling gaze. It didn't matter that she was only fourteen and still growing into her curves; these men, like the pirates that had first introduced her to that sickening glint of lust, only cared that she was female. They would use her body without a second thought if given the chance. Just the thought made her skin crawl, and she was all too conscious of the fact that, this time, there was no Fire Nation prince to keep guard. This time, she was all alone.

"I don't want any trouble," she said, still backing away.

"There doesn't have to be any trouble if you just cooperate," he responded, following her with that same ugly little smile playing on his lips.

Fear pumped through her veins like ice, turning her blood cold, but she held her chin high as she met his gaze. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I can't do that."

Without giving him a chance to respond, she summoned the water from her flask and sent it crashing into the three men's faces, blinding them from the force and sending all three tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. She didn't hesitate and quickly gathered the water back to her hands and made a run for it, not knowing where she was heading but just knowing that she needed to get away. Those men would not stay down for long. She had no delusions about what would happen if she got caught.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted along the dusty track, but then she heard a shout from somewhere up ahead, followed by another and another. She inhaled sharply, realising there were more of the outlaws. There was no way she could outrun them all.

"Get him!"

Katara frowned, slowing down in her surprise. Wait a minute. Get _him_? A second later she saw a glint of blue flash out of the corner of her eye and then something warm and solid crashed into her. A yelp escaped her lips, and she reached out instinctively even as strong hands found her shoulders. Then they were both gripping each other as they dug their feet into the ground like seasoned sailors to regain their balance. It was only a heartbeat that they stood a hairsbreadth from each other, but it was enough for Katara to realise that the newcomer was a male warrior wearing a blue mask. He released her and turned to face his pursuers, unsheathing the twin blades strapped to his back as he did so. With no alternative, Katara also turned to face the outlaws who had chased her, only now there were more than just three.

"I see you managed to corner the little bastard," Squashed Face observed with a chuckle, glancing at the masked warrior. "We can have a bit of sport with him."

"Who's the girl?" one of the others called.

"No idea, but who cares? We can have a bit of fun with her too."

More laughter greeted this statement, echoing like an unholy throng in Katara's ears. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she watched the men have their joke at her expense, even as her stomach twisted in disgust and fear. Every instinct told her that this was a bad, bad situation. She and the masked stranger were completely surrounded, she had no water source to boost the measly drops left in her flask, and he seemed to be a non-bender who relied on swords. The odds were not looking good for either of them.

Instinctively, she pressed closer to his back, one hand holding a ball of water over her palm in case she needed to defend. She could feel the tension in the warrior's muscles through his tunic and the way he was barely restraining himself from lashing out with his dao swords, as if he were a coiled spring waiting to be unleashed. Somehow, that was comforting. At least one of them wasn't afraid.

"Think you can handle the five on your side?" she muttered, turning her head slightly to look at him.

He didn't respond; instead, he rushed forward in a blur of blue and black, dao blades glinting like silver lightning as he sliced a path through his opponents. Katara didn't have time to be amazed at his speed and grace. A rock flashed past her face, just grazing her cheek, and she quickly turned to retaliate with a water whip. Great, they had an earthbender.

Heart pounding against her ribs like a wild drum, she ducked and weaved, countering and defending against the rest of the outlaws' attacks the best that she could while trying not to let herself get flanked. She didn't have enough water to form either the pentapus or octopus forms—the only bending moves that would allow her to defend from so many men at once—but she was still a waterbending master, and she would not be defeated so easily. Not when she knew the price of defeat.

Her eyes snapped towards the man with the spear. He was already preparing to strike, but she used her water whip to snatch the weapon from his hands and then countered with her breath of ice, freezing his feet in place. A smug smile curled her lips as she watched him flounder, trying to keep his balance and, at the same time, break free of his icy shackles. He wasn't going to be attacking her anytime soon. Two roars of anger echoed in her ears. Then Squashed Face and the other non-bender were upon her, weapons slicing and hacking, but never quite making contact with her skin. Being chased all over the world by an angry Fire Nation prince did have its benefits now and then. Learning how to dodge faster was just one of them.

More sweat rolled down her forehead as the battle dragged on, and she could feel the back of her neck getting steadily damper, making her hair stick to her skin. She was on the defensive now despite her speed, for waterbending was not designed for close-combat fighting. Not unless one had access to a large source of water. To make things worse, the earthbender seemed determined to smash her into a pulp, though he was clearly untrained. If he were as skilled as Toph, he would have just locked her up in a cage of rock by now.

"What's the matter, girlie?" the earthbender taunted. "Running out of water?"

"Why don't you come over here and find out!" Katara retorted, gathering her element around her like a shield and letting it fly forward at all three of her opponents in daggers of ice.

The earthbender blocked her attack with his bending, but one of the non-benders was not so lucky and was soon pinned and bleeding on the ground. A sword lunged for her face before she could catch her breath, making her step back and just miss having the tip of the blade slice through her chin. Her heart gave a funny lurch in her chest, but there was no time for a respite. Squashed Face was already counterattacking, and the rocks kept coming, and she was just getting so tired. It felt like days since she'd had a proper meal or full night's sleep. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up.

Another rock soared towards her with bone-crushing force. Katara gritted her teeth and caught it with her water, guiding it around her like a tornado before sending it back towards the earthbender. She didn't wait to see if it connected. Instead, she swung around to defend against Squashed Face, but he was nowhere to be seen. Heart thumping, she licked her cracked lips and was about to turn again when hands suddenly clamped down on her wrists, dragging her arms up behind her back and making her drop her precious water.

"What are you going to do now, sweetheart?" a voice taunted in her ear. "You can't bend if you can't move your hands."

Katara inhaled sharply, hearing the mocking laughter of her tormentors ring in her ears. The earthbender was already walking forward, leering in a way that made goose-chicken bumps prickle all over her skin. She wondered if she would be able to freeze him with her breath if he came close enough, but then something flashed past her and the earthbender halted, almost pushed backwards. His green eyes widened and he looked down at his chest where she could see a dagger protruding from his ribs. Suddenly, Squashed Face let out a yelp and the fingers digging into her wrist slackened and then were wrenched free. She turned to see the masked warrior knock the man out with the hilt of his blades.

"Thanks," she gasped, rubbing her bruised skin.

He raised his head to look at her through the slits of his mask, and his body tensed for a second before he tackled her around the middle, pulling them both to the ground and shielding her with his warm weight. Something heavy glided past their heads. A rock. It seemed the earthbender had not been incapacitated like she had presumed.

Rolling off her, the swordsman leapt back to his feet and then charged after the earthbender, dodging and deflecting the rocky projectiles fired his way. She thought he might even make it, but then one of the jagged bits of earth slipped past his guard, hitting him in the stomach and making him stumble back to the ground. Katara immediately took up a bending stance, summoning the spilt water to her hands and using water whips to distract the other bender so she could give the masked warrior some cover.

"You alright?" she called.

For answer, he got back to his feet and then made another dash for the earthbender, swords already poised to strike. This time Katara helped to stop the rocks from getting in his way. She weaved threads of water that snatched and deflected, giving him a clear path to his target. There was a flash of steel as the two males came into contact, and then it was over. The earthbender fell to his knees, blood gurgling from his mouth, and slumped face-first into the ground.

Katara took the moment to catch her breath, watching as the swordsman knelt down to retrieve his dagger, which he wiped clean on the earthbender's tunic and then sheathed. "Did you kill him?" she couldn't help but ask.

The swordsman said nothing, which she guessed might have been an affirmation. The earthbender certainly wasn't moving. A conflicting rush of feelings arose within her, but she pushed those emotions aside and instead examined the rest of the clearing, taking in the damage. The other outlaws had fled, taking their fallen comrades with them, including the unconscious Squashed Face. They must have seized the opportunity while she and the swordsman had been busy with the earthbender. Even the outlaw whose feet she had frozen had managed to escape.

Katara glanced at her masked ally, only to realise that he was leaving. "Hey!" she called, running to catch up to him. "Wait up!"

He swung back to face her, making a sharp gesture with his hand. Was he trying to tell her to go away?

"What, I'm not good enough company for you now that there is no one trying to kill you?" Katara demanded, planting her hands on her hips. "Nice way to show your gratitude to the person who just helped you take down those outlaws."

He made a frustrated sound from behind his mask and then carried on walking, ignoring her completely. She was having none of that, however, and quickened her pace to match his stride. If he noticed her following him, he didn't say or do anything. Maybe he hoped that she would just give up and leave him alone if he pretended that she didn't exist long enough. Fat chance. She had finally got a good look at his mask, and it occurred to her that it looked exactly like the one she had seen on those wanted posters all over the Earth Kingdom.

"You're the Blue Spirit, right?" she asked, peering up at him as they walked.

He nodded, if a little reluctantly.

"So how come the Fire Nation wants to capture you so badly? What did you do?"

His whole body tensed, and she noticed the way his shoulders hunched forward as if her questions were little darts that he was trying to shield against. Instead of responding, however, he just clenched his hands into fists and carried on walking, though now at a much faster pace. Katara frowned and followed in his footsteps.

"Alright, don't tell me," she said to his back. "It's not like I'm going to force it out of you."

When he still didn't slow down, her eyes narrowed and she couldn't stop the small huff of annoyance that escaped her lips.

"Great, just keep ignoring me then." She sighed and stretched the muscles in her arms, trying to relieve the aches and stiffness. "I can see that you're going to be a really fun travelling companion."

That did get a response out of him, but all he did was make another choked noise and then kneel down on the ground to scratch something into the dirt with his finger. It occurred to her that he probably couldn't talk. She stopped beside him to get a better look at what he had written.

"I never asked you to follow me," she read aloud. "Well, that's too bad, because I have no idea where I am and you're the only person around here who I can trust not to try to kill me."

More characters appeared in the gritty dirt.

"What happened to my friends?" She met the shadowed eye slits, wondering how he had even known that she had been travelling with others. Had they met before? "We got separated," she answered finally, staring down at her hands. "Something was chasing us, and I ..." A blush stained her cheeks. "Never mind. All you need to know is that I'm here, and they're"—she waved her hand airily off into the distance—"somewhere out there."

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

"I'm sure they are looking for me," she said a little tartly. "It's not like they'd just abandon me out here."

Or so she kept reminding herself. Everyone had been so caught up in escaping the crazy tank thing that they hadn't even noticed that she had fallen out of the saddle. Even now, she didn't know how it had happened. Maybe she had just dozed off for a moment, but suddenly she had opened her eyes to discover that she was falling and Appa and the others were flying away into the distance. She had shouted out to them, but they hadn't heard her cries and then it was too late. The bison was gone, taking her brother and friends with him, and she had continued to fall, plummeting past rock-faces and branches that snagged at her clothes, until she had hit her head on something hard and the world had gone black.

She supposed she should be glad that the people manning the crazy tank had not found her when she was unconscious, but waking up to find herself stranded in the middle of nowhere had not exactly been a bundle of joy either. Her luck had just got worse from there, and now the only person who seemed to be able to help her was this silent stranger—and he had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.

A light tug on her wrist had her looking back down at the swordsman. He pointed to the dirt, where new words had been written.

"I don't know who was chasing us," she said, shaking her head. "All I saw was a crazy tank that somehow managed to keep pace with our flying bison."

His grip tightened on her wrist, but he wasn't looking at her and was instead staring out to where she had pointed. She could practically feel the tension rolling off him in waves, but his expression was hidden behind the cover of his mask. There was no way for her to tell what he was thinking.

"What?" Katara prompted when he didn't move. "What's wrong?"

The Blue Spirit released her and then wrote something on the dirt. The characters were uneven and blurring into one another from his haste, but she could still make out the words. It seemed that they had a common enemy. He had been tracking the tank's progress yesterday, but then his ostrich-horse had got stolen by those outlaws and he'd no choice but to make a detour. If she helped him retrieve Scratch, he would help her find her friends. Katara didn't even have to consider the matter. Much as she never wanted to see any of those outlaws again, the thought of travelling alone after everything that had happened was not appealing. She would feel much happier with a skilled swordsman on her side, especially if he was willing to help her find her brother and friends.

She held out her hand. "It's a deal."

The Blue Spirit stood up and cautiously took her hand, not once breaking eye contact as they shook on the matter. Her lips curved into a grin and then she pushed the dusty hair out of her face and turned towards the opposite direction.

"Right, let's go find Scratch!" She paused, glancing back at him. "Uh … how do we do that exactly?"

The Blue Spirit sighed and walked past her, shaking his head. Katara frowned as he once again didn't bother to wait for her. It seemed that her first instinct had been right: he was going to be a really fun travelling companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read the original Zutara Month response, you'll know this first chapter does feature a lot of that one-shot, but I still felt that this was a good place to end.
> 
> Oh, and one new addition that probably deserves some kind of explanation is the fact that Zuko does indeed kill the earthbender. I know it's against the Avatar 'good guy' code to have your hero do this (especially when said hero started out as a character on a children's show), and while I by no means think that Zuko is the type to go around killing people willy-nilly, I do think that he knows when it's a kill or be killed situation. In this case, it was an act of self-defence. That earthbender was not going to let them go. However, there is also the fact that this expanded story took a darker turn with what the outlaws had planned for Katara. Yeah, somehow I don't think Zuko would be thinking 'I must try not to mortally wound this man who is trying to kill me' when said man was also planning to rape a girl that Zuko knows (even as a sorta enemy).
> 
> So that is my explanation (coughdefencecough) for why Zuko breaks the Avatar good guy code. And, in all honesty, I don't think that would have been the first time he killed someone in self-defence. Much as kiddie shows love to gloss over those things, war is brutal and ugly. It's inevitable that deaths will happen.


	2. Finding Scratch

Katara sighed as she followed the Blue Spirit. He would occasionally pause to examine something on the ground before moving again, all without even acknowledging her. It was getting annoying. She had never liked to be ignored.

"So," she said after a few more minutes of this, giving a half-hearted glare at his back, "are you ever going to tell me what it is that we're doing? I can't exactly help you if you just keep on leaving me in the dark."

He exhaled loudly and knelt on the ground, scratching something into the dirt.

She walked over to stand beside him, looking down at the characters. "Tracking," she said aloud. "You mean Scratch?"

He shook his head and scrubbed his hand over his previous sentence before writing another. It occurred to her that he had very neat handwriting, almost making it look like an art with the way he fluidly shifted from one character to the next—and that was with only using his finger on dirt. No way was this guy just some ordinary swordsman. Only those of noble rank or people who had been trained as scribes could write like that. Not even she could do so, and she was a chieftain's daughter.

"You're tracking the outlaws," she stated, reading over his words. "You think they'll lead you to Scratch. That's why you let them—" A gasp escaped her lips. "Wait, you mean you meant for them to run away?"

He nodded and wrote how their injuries would slow them down, making it easier to follow the outlaws on foot and discover their hideout. They had been smart enough to cover their tracks the first time, which was why he had decided to draw them out into a fight. He'd figured that if he wounded enough of them, they'd be too concerned with getting back to base and fixing up their injuries to bother hiding their tracks. It seemed he had been right.

Katara's eyes widened as she finished reading, and then she just stared at her companion as if seeing him for the first time. He must be confident in his abilities if he had been willing to set up a fight with a bunch of outlaws just so he could injure them and then follow their tracks to their hideout. She didn't really want to think about what would have happened had he not needed the men alive. She remembered what he had done to that earthbender. A swift slice to the throat and then the man hadn't moved again. The thought still made her feel a little sick—and torn. She didn't deny that the earthbender had deserved it, but it had just been so quick. So final.

A light tug on her wrist had her snapping out of her thoughts. She glanced down to see more words written on the dirt:

_"We need to keep moving."_

"Right," she said, shrugging off her reservations.

After all, the Blue Spirit had protected her. He had come to her aid and stopped those men from—well, she didn't really want to think about that either. It didn't matter that he had turned out to be more cunning than she had originally thought. He was here, and he was willing to help her get back to her brother and friends. She had to trust him.

The warrior stood to his full height, smooth and nimble in his movements. He started walking again, setting a brisk pace for her shorter legs. She followed without a word, though she did find herself watching him a bit more closely. Maybe it was the lingering doubt that niggled at her mind, maybe it was just simple curiosity. Either way, she was intrigued. Just who was this masked warrior? And why had he been following that crazy tank in the first place?

 _Too bad he can't talk_ , she thought, still keeping her eyes fixed on his back.

It would be so much easier to get information out of him if they could converse normally instead of having to rely on his scrawled comments. Not to mention the fact that she was beginning to realise that travelling with a silent companion was not exactly her idea of fun. All of this quiet was making her edgy. She was used to Sokka's jokes and sarcastic comments, or Aang's free-spirited laugh and goofy ways. Heck, she even missed Toph's bratty remarks and teasing nicknames, if only because it was something. But the Blue Spirit just walked in silence, and that left her trapped with her own thoughts. Thoughts that would inevitably stray back to the fact that she was still no closer to being reunited with her friends, had been attacked by men who had wanted to do terrible things to her, and was now following a masked stranger to spirits' knew where.

Really, it was no wonder she felt so agitated. Her mind was a whirl of confused thoughts and fears. So she did the only thing that she could do to calm herself: she broke the silence.

"So, are you from around here?" she asked, quickening her pace to walk beside him.

The Blue Spirit said nothing, which was to be expected.

"You can just nod or shake your head," she suggested. "I can figure out the rest."

Still no response.

Katara pursed her lips. "Alright, since you don't want to answer me, I'll tell you what I think. The colour and style of your clothes tell me that you are most likely from the Earth Kingdom, but the fabric is worn and encrusted with dirt. You've clearly been travelling for a while. You either came to this region because your home is somewhere around here, or you're just a nomad by nature and never stop to settle in one place."

The masked face turned to look down at her. She could almost feel the weight of his gaze as he observed her through the shadowed eye slits. It was impossible to know what he was thinking, but that didn't bother her. She had finally got his attention.

"So, am I close?" She smiled up at him.

His shoulders tensed, but then he just looked straight ahead again, making no effort to give her an answer. So much for making progress.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," she said, and tugged on the end of her plait, playing with the loose strands. "I'm from the Southern Water Tribe, if you hadn't guessed already. It's not like here. The Earth Kingdom is all browns and greens, but my home is pure white. It snows all year round, and during the cold nights we all gather together around the bonfire and sing songs and tell stories while watching the stars." Her voice took on a hint of sadness. "Or at least we used to before all the men went off to war."

The Blue Spirit gave an involuntary twitch, but he kept on walking.

"I really miss it, you know," she said softly, more to herself. "The smell of Gran-Gran's cooking, the icy spray of the ocean, the igloos and penguins. It seems so long ago, yet it was just coming up to the Winter Solstice when I left with my brother to follow the Avatar." She touched her fingers to the pendant hanging from the choker around her neck. "I hope everyone is doing okay without us."

Her companion remained silent, but she could see him shooting her side-long glances from out of the corner of her vision. Perhaps her words had struck a chord with him. Perhaps he simply wondered why she was telling him all of this when they barely knew each other. She didn't know, but she did recognise that while he had so far refused to join in the conversation, he was at least listening.

"What about you?" she asked, nudging his arm. "You ever find yourself missing home during your travels?"

He sighed loudly and bent to scratch something on the dirt.

_"Do you always talk this much?"_

Katara's mouth curved into a teasing grin. "You're so quiet that I feel I have to talk for the both of us."

_"Well, you're certainly talking enough for two."_

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "You know, you're really not making this easy for me. I'm just trying to be friendly."

_"I'm not here to make friends."_

She folded her arms and was about to make a retort, but he was already standing up and walking away. It was clear that she could either follow or he would leave her behind. Katara closed her mouth and glared at his retreating figure. Oh, he had some nerve.

"Well, aren't you just a bundle of civility," she said, following his footsteps. "I can see why you normally travel alone."

The Blue Spirit ignored her.

Katara gritted her teeth. There were a lot of things she wanted to say to him in that moment. Things about respect and common courtesy, and not going off in his stompy way and just leaving her to catch up all the time, but that rant got thrown out the window when he suddenly raised his arm.

"What?" she said, her brow creasing. "What's—"

But the next second his hand clamped over her mouth and she found herself being dragged behind one of the enormous stone rings that dotted the dusty plain. He flattened them both against the monolith, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist so that she could not move. Katara inhaled sharply. His palm was warm against her lips, and she was all too conscious of the fact that he had pulled her right up against his chest. His very firm chest. It was all rather distracting, but then she heard the sound of something creaking and rumbling from not far ahead, and any thought of big, warm hands and toned chests were quickly replaced with much more practical musings. Like whether she should be worried that the rumbling creaking was getting closer.

"Come on, old girl," a wheezy voice called. "You can go faster than that."

A wagon came into view, pulled by a scraggly looking ostrich-horse that looked liked it was on its last feathers, with an equally scraggly looking man at the reins. A straw hat covered most of the driver's face, but there was no mistaking the snowy beard peeping out from beneath. She let out a small breath of relief, even as she felt the Blue Spirit relax and loosen his grip on her waist. It was nothing but a harmless old traveller.

Silently, they watched the wagon make its lumbering way past them until the creaking of the wheels was just a low hum. Only then did the Blue Spirit release her. Katara made a big show of brushing down her robe and fixing up her hair. She certainly wasn't going to let on that his proximity had made her flustered or that even now her heart was still beating at a much faster rate.

The Blue Spirit made a gesture with his hand for her to follow and then stepped out from behind the stone ring. It took Katara a moment to realise that she had been left behind again, and she quickly let go of her plait and hurried after him, losing some of her feigned indifference as she struggled to keep up with his longer strides. He spared her a brief glance, but otherwise focussed on making sure that they were still following the outlaws' tracks. She supposed it was kind of an improvement. At least he was checking to see if she was actually following him now.

"How much farther till we find it?" she asked, once the silence became too much for her again. "The hideout, I mean."

The Blue Spirit shrugged.

"Great," she muttered, stretching her arms and trying not to think about how dehydrated and hot she was getting. "Well, I hope it's not too far."

He nodded in agreement. Perhaps he was feeling just as tired and thirsty.

Katara sighed and continued to walk with him in relative silence, wondering if they would ever find a water source in this dry, barren landscape. She had already been walking for so long before she had run into the Blue Spirit. The combination of the heat and her own parched throat was beginning to make her feel a bit light-headed. Her eyes glimmered with excitement when they came across a stone well in the ruins of what might have been a village, but the bottom revealed nothing but cracked dirt. If people had once drawn water from the depths, it must have been a very long time ago.

She made a small sound of dismay, then blinked as white and black dots swarmed before her eyes. Oh, that wasn't good. A water flask was suddenly shoved against her stomach. She closed her hands around it in surprise, glancing up to meet the Blue Spirit's shadowed gaze. He mimed for her to drink.

"I can't take this," she said, trying to give the flask back to him. "This is yours. Besides, I still have some water left of my own."

He shook his head and scrawled some characters onto the dirt.

 _"You're a waterbender,"_ she read. _"You're going to need that water once we get to the hideout. Drink. It's obvious you need it."_

"What about you?" she asked. "You must be thirsty as well."

_"I'll manage. Just don't drink it all."_

Katara held his gaze for a long moment. When he just continued to stare pointedly back at her, she nodded in acquiescence. She couldn't argue with his logic; she'd be useless to him in a fight with no water to bend, and even more useless to him if she fainted from dehydration. Plus, the thought of drinking anything right now was too tempting an offer to pass. So she uncorked the flask and allowed some of the liquid to dribble into her mouth. The water was warm and tasted old, but it soothed the dryness and eased the headache she had been developing. She had an urge to just drink the lot, but she was mindful of the Blue Spirit's words and instead had one more gulp before handing the flask back to him.

"Thanks," she said, bestowing him with a friendly smile.

He tensed and faced the other way. She could almost hear the words "Yeah, whatever" spoken through the gesture. Katara pursed her lips at his inability to accept even this small sign of gratitude, but decided not to push the matter. Maybe he was one of the rudest people she had ever met, but he had been thoughtful enough to offer her some of his water. That had to count for something.

The Blue Spirit hooked his water flask back to his belt and knelt to scratch something into the dirt. _"We should keep moving,"_ he wrote. _"We can't be far from the hideout now."_

"Alright." 

It occurred to her as they walked side by side out of the ruins that this was the first time he had waited for her. A faint smile curled her lips. Well, perhaps she had made some progress with him after all.

oOo

The Blue Spirit turned out to be right in his assumption that they were not far from the hideout. They had only gone a small distance out of the ruined village when the tracks they had been following led them to a small gorge. Neither of them had liked the look of the narrow passage, for they would be vulnerable from archers and benders alike, but they had come this far. It would be ridiculous to turn back now.

 _"Stay close to me,"_ the Blue Spirit wrote. _"And no talking."_

Katara didn't much care for the latter part of this sentence (she didn't talk that much), but instead of making a retort, she simply nodded to say that she understood. Satisfied, he led her along the narrow path, keeping a wary eye out for any sign of an ambush. Nothing happened to impede their progress, however, and soon they were standing outside a shadowed cave mouth. There was bloody handprint smeared on the rocks, as if someone had leant against the entrance. Katara didn't need to touch the stain to know that the blood was fresh.

"This is it," she whispered.

The Blue Spirit gestured for her to stay on her guard before stepping into the cave. She hesitated only a moment before following, keeping her hand ready on her water skin. Her breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness, and she was conscious of every heartbeat, every scuff of her boot. The Blue Spirit seemed much more at home, moving with a graceful lightness that seemed to make no noise at all. He hugged the shadows and, when the light seeping through the entrance faded as they travelled deeper into the cave, seemed to adjust to the darkness almost immediately. Katara had much more trouble. After her second stumble, there was a small sound of exasperation and then a warm hand closed around her wrist and she found herself being guided through the twisting, dark paths. It was a little humiliating to be led like a child, but she was grateful for his assistance all the same. Better that than to trip over something and alert everybody to their presence.

Deeper and deeper they went into the tunnels until the light began to shift again as they came across torches supported by rock-crafted sconces on the walls. Now she could see her companion's lithe form moving ahead of her instead of just a shadowed outline, as well as the blue flashes of his mask. She didn't think to question why he was still holding her wrist. Her nerves were strung high and her whole attention was focussed on not making a sound, for they had both recognised that they were getting closer to the main part of the outlaws' hideout and there was still no sign of Scratch.

Suddenly, the Blue Spirit paused and then ducked into the shadows, pulling her with him so that they were both pressed up against the wall. She heard what had startled him a few seconds later: voices, low and rough, and all too familiar. Her eyes flickered to his, and he held his finger to the grinning mouth on his mask. Then, very carefully, he edged them along the wall until they reached the point where the tunnel split off into another room. An orange glow filtered through from around the corner. The outlaws had a fire going.

"Damn that masked freak!" a man growled. "Pinked me in the side with his swords, he did."

"What about my feet?" another moaned. "I still can't feel my toes because of that waterbender whore's freezing trick!"

"Shut up!" another voice snapped, and Katara shivered as she realised it was Squashed Face. "You're all a bunch of cowards. Running away like that—"

"But—"

"It was just one swordsman!" Squashed Face ranted, drowning out the other's words. "One bloody swordsman. I had the girl immobilised. All you had to do was kill the little bastard, but instead you ran away like a bunch of snivelling children!"

There was an awkward pause. "To be fair, boss, you couldn't stop him either. He did knock you out."

"And whose fault is that!" Squashed Face retorted. "If you had all been doing your job, we wouldn't be in this mess, and Changpu would still be—"

There was a choked noise, followed by many murmurs and what sounded like a hand being thumped on someone's back. Katara realised with a sickening twist of her stomach that 'Changpu' was probably the earthbender the Blue Spirit had killed, the one who had seemed so determined to crush her, among other things.

"Do you think the Blue Spirit will try come after his ostrich-horse again?" one of the men asked after a moment. He sounded nervous at the thought.

Someone spat on the ground. "That thing! Took a big chunk out of my arm just when I was trying to get it into the cave. Damn animal is more trouble than it's worth! No one will ever be able to ride that spawn of Koh. I say we just sell it and be done with it."

There were some murmurs of agreement at this. Apparently, Scratch had been living up to his name while under the care of the outlaws. All of them had a tale to tell of the nasty ostrich-horse with its snapping beak and sharp claws. Even Squashed Face had to admit that maybe they had made a mistake in stealing the ostrich-horse, but he'd be damned if he'd let that little punk of a swordsman get the best of him. He was just working his way into an animated speech of all the horrible things he would like to do to this so-called Blue Spirit when Katara felt a light tug on her wrist. She glanced up to see the real Blue Spirit place a finger to his mask again, then he pulled her back with him into the tunnel so that they were standing underneath one of the sconces. She didn't understand what he was doing until he knelt and wrote into the dirt.

_"How much water have you got left in that flask?"_

"Not much," Katara whispered. "Why?"

_"I need a distraction. There's another tunnel heading off from that room where those scum have all gathered. I have a good feeling they're keeping Scratch in there, but we have to get past those thieves first. If you can put out the fire, I can slip past in the darkness to get Scratch."_

Katara bit her lip. "I'm not sure if I have enough water to do that without them noticing me. It'll take too long."

The Blue Spirit thought for a moment and then wrote a hasty "Wait here" before heading back towards where the outlaws had gathered. She stood there with her mouth hanging open as he disappeared from her view, unable to believe that he had just left her. A moment later she heard the sound of alarmed cries and grunts, as well the ringing clash of steel. Her eyes widened. She raced after the masked warrior, only to pause as she got to the convergence point and saw that the orange glow of the fire was gone; the room was pitch black.

"How?" she gasped.

Too late did she realise her mistake. There was a yell and then something whistled past her face, sounding terrifyingly like a sword slashing through thin air. She dodged the next attack and then struck out blindly with a water whip, hearing the satisfying "oomph" of a man being winded as she made contact. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped back towards the tunnel from which she had come, but then something bumped into her side, sending her sprawling to the floor in a heap of bruised limbs and scraped elbows. She heard rather than saw the splash of her bending water hit the ground.

"No!" Katara hissed, sitting up on her knees and feeling around in the dark.

She needed that water to defend herself, but she couldn't see where it had fallen and there was just so much chaos going on around her. Men shouted for light while others stumbled their way through the darkness with their weapons, trying to find the intruder. Spirits, she hoped the Blue Spirit was alright—not that her situation was much better. If only she could retrieve that water!

 _Concentrate_ , she told herself, closing her eyes. _Feel your element. Let it come to you._

Her breathing hitched as she felt the familiar tug on her stomach, yet the pull seemed to be coming from more than just a puddle of water on ground. It tugged from all around her, as if the very walls were made of water. But that couldn't be right, could it?

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She started in fright and opened her eyes to see Squashed Face leering down at her, holding a torch for light.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said with a nasty smile. "Did you miss me?"


	3. Making Friends

Katara swallowed, feeling something cold and heavy settle in her stomach. Squashed Face's smile widened as he tightened his grip on her shoulder, showing a row of stained, broken teeth. She had almost forgotten how ugly the outlaw was with his pockmarked skin and flattened features, forgotten how much he made her skin crawl. But she had not forgotten how much she hated him.

"Now then," he began in his oily voice, "we can do this the hard way or the—"

Her hand twitched, summoning the spilt water to her fingers. She lashed out with a whip that shoved him back just as powerfully as if she had given him an uppercut to his jaw. The water swept back to circle around her palm as she got to her feet and then she was running, running, running—

Straight into the arms of a man with a two-lined scar running across his nose and cheeks, as if he had been clawed by some large beast … or an ostrich-horse. Meaty hands encircled her wrists, making her cry out in pain as he spun her around and twisted her arms up behind her back, pulling her tight against his chest. Once again, her bending water splashed harmlessly to the ground.

"No! Let me go!" Katara yelled, kicking and struggling as she tried to break free of his hold, but every movement just made her arms ache a bit more. The iron grip on her wrists would not be released.

Suddenly, the torches on the walls flared to life around her, and the heavy stone in her stomach seemed to sink even further as she saw that she was surrounded. Her eyes skittered from one face to the next. She noticed that some of the men were sporting bandages from where she and the Blue Spirit had injured them earlier, but there were also some outlaws she didn't recognise. Men who were fresh and strong and had not been walking for hours with barely any food and water like her. Men who would crush her if she couldn't find a way to defend against their attacks.

Blood pounded in her ears, dulling every sound in the cave to a low hum. She knew she was in trouble, but there was still a thrill of hope thrumming in her veins. One look at the walls had showed her why she had sensed her element all around her. There were barrels stacked up against all four. Barrels of water. All she needed to do was get her arms free and she would have the outlaws begging for mercy. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. In fact, the more she struggled, the more she felt like her arms were going to pop right out of their sockets.

Squashed Face got back to his feet and advanced towards her, tilting his neck this way and that with a series of cracks. "Quite the little spitfire, aren't you?" he observed, but the tone of his voice suggested it wasn't a compliment.

"Drop dead!" Katara growled, pausing in her thrashing to glare at him.

His mouth curved into a smile and he grasped her jaw in a bruising grip, tilting her face up more to his. "Now, now, sweetheart. That's not a nice way to talk. Looks like we're going to have to teach you some manners."

She spat at his face in response, chest heaving in anger even as her heart pounded sickeningly against her ribs. Damn it! Why couldn't she get her arms free?

Squashed Face froze and wiped the spittle from his cheek. His eyes narrowed to thin slits. "You're going to pay for that," he promised in a deadly voice, and her eyes widened as he pulled his broadsword free from its scabbard. "But first we need to deal with your little masked friend."

As if on cue, there was a loud squawk from the back tunnel and someone cried out in pain. Katara hoped it wasn't the Blue Spirit. Whatever was going on back there didn't sound good. She could hear men shouting and grunting, intermingled with the ringing clash of steel hitting against steel. A strangled yell and then the sound of thudding feet, like an avalanche of noise rushing towards her. Squashed Face made a gesture to his men, who took up a defensive position around the entrance like a blockade, boxing Katara, the scarred man holding her, and Squashed Face in as well. That was when something emerged from the shadowed tunnel: a masked figure astride an ostrich-horse, clutching the reins in one hand while the other clasped a single dao sword.

"Blue!" she cried in relief.

He was alive, though it only took him a second to realise the direness of their situation. One look at her position and then he was tugging on Scratch's reins, drawing the ostrich-horse to a halt. More outlaws came to surround him from behind—leftovers from the men he had fought in the tunnel while freeing Scratch—but the Blue Spirit seemed to have expected this and simply adjusted his grip on his sword, keeping his attention focussed on the trio in the centre. Even without being able to see his expression, Katara knew that he was assessing the outlaws and his options.

Squashed Face stepped forward. "As you can see, we have you completely surrounded. You can try to fight us, of course, but you'll be taking your little waterbender friend out of here in pieces if you do." His mouth curved into an ugly smile. "So, let's just cut to the chase, shall we? Lay your weapons down where we can see them and the girl lives. Resist us, and she dies. And I promise you," he added with malicious softness, "I will do my utmost to bring you and your ostrich-horse down as well."

Katara sucked in a sharp breath. This was just like Zuko and the pirates all over again. It infuriated her to think that, once more, she had been reduced to helpless bait—she was a master waterbender, damn it—but underneath her indignation was a very real fear. She knew that Squashed Face had no intention of letting either of them go, no matter what he said. He wanted to have his fun with her, and he wanted to kill the Blue Spirit. There could be no negotiating with such a man.

"Well?" Squashed Face prompted when the Blue Spirit made no move to get off the ostrich-horse. "What will it b—"

"Don't do it!" Katara shouted. "He's just going to kill us both anyway! Just run!"

She got a blow to the face for that one. Her jaw throbbed and ached from the impact, even as the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. She must have bitten her tongue.

"Oh, you didn't like that, did you?" Squashed Face taunted.

Katara blinked dazedly, wondering if he was talking to her or the Blue Spirit. Her ears were still ringing from being hit, and her vision was a blur of white stars and black smudges. It was taking all of her effort just to stay conscious, but then something sharp pressed against her throat and it was as if clarity snapped back to her mind. She could see the broadsword being held to her neck, see the Blue Spirit tensed on his ostrich-horse with his weapon in hand as if he were barely restraining himself from attacking. Then Squashed Face dug the sharpened edge of his blade a little further into her skin, and she gasped as she blood trickled free from the cut. The Blue Spirit made a muffled sound.

"Lay down your weapons," Squashed Face ordered in a hard voice, "or I swear I'll slit her throat right now."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she met the Blue Spirit's shadowed gaze. Maybe Squashed Face was bluffing, maybe he wasn't. Neither of them could know for sure, but her stomach still twisted in a mixture of unease and relief when the masked warrior slid off the ostrich-horse and threw his weapon down on the ground.

"And the other one," Squashed Face said, nodding to the hilt sticking out from the scabbard strapped to the Blue Spirit's back.

The Blue Spirit removed the blade and let it join its twin with a clatter. It was obvious that he was seething.

"Thanks for your cooperation," Squashed Face said, removing the sword from Katara's neck, and then he waved his hand in a signal to the other outlaws. "Kill him."

"No!" Katara screamed.

But hands were already seizing the masked warrior by his arms, trying to drag him into a state of submission. He struggled and kicked out with his legs, desperate to break free of their grip, but there were just so many of them. Even Scratch tried to get in on the action, pecking and clawing at the outlaws' backs to aid his master, but then one of the men slashed at the creature with his spear. A pained screech reverberated through the cave as the ostrich-horse reared up and away from the sharpened tip, blood dripping from its side like crimson rain.

 _We're all going to die down here_ , Katara thought in silent horror. _We're all going to die, and it'll be my fault for opening my stupid mouth and getting caught. I've killed us all._

The Blue Spirit let out a muffled grunt and fell to the ground. She could see the outlaws swarming in on him with their weapons, and then Squashed Face started laughing and something just seemed to snap inside her mind. It didn't matter that her hands were still twisted up behind her back or that she was scared and exhausted. All that mattered was that the Blue Spirit had fallen, Scratch was squawking and trying to escape from the outlaw with the spear, and Squashed Face was laughing like it was the funniest thing he had seen in the world. Squashed Face who had hit her, mocked her, and promised to do unspeakable things to her.

Her eyes narrowed on that flattened, pockmarked face. She felt the familiar tugging in her gut—an energy that pushed and pulled, seizing hold of every scrap of water in the vicinity as if invisible hands were reaching out from her body to gather her element towards her like a magnet. Something shifted in the air, humming in whispers of a brewing storm. Then there was an explosion of sound, of wood cracking and liquid bursting forth from splintered barrels, spraying them all in a chaotic surge as the water crashed down upon the outlaws like a tidal wave. The hands holding her wrists loosened as the scarred man lost his footing, and she thrashed and struggled with all of her might until, with one good kick to his shin, she at last broke free.

Ignoring the way her arms throbbed and ached, she spun around to face the scarred man and summoned two streams of water, sending both to smash against his chest so that he was knocked off his feet. Her fingers formed claws and ice shards soon followed, pinning him in place so that he was immobilised.

"Stop wasting your time with the Blue Spirit and get the girl!" Squashed Face yelled, struggling up from where he had fallen from the deluge. "She's controlling the water!"

Katara swung around at the sound of his voice, even as he made his way towards her with murder etched into his expression. Her eyes hardened and she let out a deep breath, raising her arms with grim concentration. Water rose up from the ground and swirled around like a hurricane, growing bigger and bigger as more liquid fused with her creation. Squashed Face froze in horror at the sight. A faint smile curved her lips. She thrust her arms forward and the swirling vortex came crashing down, swallowing all into a watery embrace that smothered and choked and then—as she flexed her fingers—froze everyone into statues of ice.

A ragged breath escaped her lips and she collapsed to her knees, suddenly dizzy. That had taken a lot of energy out of her. Still, there wasn't time to rest just yet. Groaning, she crawled over to where the Blue Spirit had been frozen, though little droplets were already melting free, which did surprise her. Shrugging off the matter, she exhaled deeply and let the rest of the ice encasing his body melt back into water, careful not to unfreeze the surrounding outlaws. He coughed and sat up, clutching at his side.

"Sorry about that," she said with an apologetic smile. "It's a bit hard to be selective with who I'm freezing when I'm controlling that much water."

The Blue Spirit waved off her apology, then pointed at Scratch, who had also been turned into a Scratchsicle. She scrambled over to the ostrich-horse and began the unfreezing process all over again until she could see the animal ruffling his feathers and twitching his head as if he wasn't sure what had just happened, just that he hadn't liked it.

"I'm sorry, Scratch," Katara murmured, smoothing a hand over the bedraggled feathers. "I didn't mean to trap you in ice as well."

Scratch squawked and tossed his head, and she suddenly found herself being tugged back by a hand on her wrist. She turned to look at the Blue Spirit questioningly, but he just shook his head and stepped forward. When the ostrich-horse reared back, showing the white of his eyes, she thought she understood. Scratch was terrified. If the Blue Spirit hadn't pulled her back in time, she'd probably have learnt for herself just why the creature had been given its name.

"Uh, I think I'll just stand over here," she said, taking a few more steps back.

The Blue Spirit didn't spare her a glance and slowly advanced upon the ostrich-horse, letting Scratch decide when he could come closer before he moved in to calm his frightened mount. She watched the two of them for a moment, seeing how gently the masked warrior stroked the feathers while taking hold of the reins, reasserting control even as he forged anew the bonds of trust that the outlaws had broken with their cruelty.

 _So you do know how to make friends_ , she thought with a twisted smile.

Just not so well with humans, it seemed. She sighed and bent to refill her water skin, only to pause as she saw that her hand was streaked with red. No, not red. Blood.

"Scratch!" she exclaimed.

She stood up and rushed over to where the Blue Spirit was still tending to his mount, babbling about how she had seen the ostrich-horse get injured with a spear and she'd forgot all about it with everything that had happened, but it was okay because she could fix the wound. She just needed to get close enough.

"Can you stop him from attacking me?" she asked, meeting his gaze anxiously as she got her water ready.

The Blue Spirit nodded and guided the ostrich-horse's face towards his, even as he continued his rhythmic stroking to soothe and distract Scratch from what Katara was doing. Once she was satisfied that a clawed foot was not going to come lunging for her, she took in a deep breath and placed glowing palms against the wound on Scratch's wing, sealing up the cut and stopping the flow of blood.

"There," she said, stepping back with a smile. "All done."

Scratch ruffled his feathers a bit, then took a step towards her. Her eyes widened in alarm, but the ostrich-horse just gave an affectionate nudge to her cheek with his beak as if to say thank you. She couldn't stop the smile that came to her lips, and she ran a hand down Scratch's long neck, grinning even more widely as the ostrich-horse let out a contented chirruping noise.

"You're welcome," she whispered.

Scratch nudged her again before stepping back, twitching in a fidgety manner that suggested he was quite ready to leave the cave if they would hurry up and get on his back. Katara exchanged a glance with the Blue Spirit, who seemed unnaturally still as he stood there staring at her. Perhaps she had surprised him with her display of healing powers.

"Got everything you need?" she asked, summoning more water from the ground so she could top up her flask.

He nodded and tapped his swords, which had been sheathed in the scabbard strapped to his back. She smiled, but the expression faded a second later as she caught sight of one of the frozen outlaws. It was Squashed Face, trapped in an expression of murderous horror. Something twisted in her stomach. "What should I do with them?"

The Blue Spirit spared a glance for the outlaws and then shrugged, as if to say that the men weren't their problem anymore. The ice would melt eventually. Katara bit her lip and stared back at Squashed Face. In her anger, she had not bothered to leave breathing room for the men. If she did nothing to aid them now, they would surely suffocate.

 _They'd deserve it_ , a voice whispered in her mind.

Katara shook her head. Maybe they did deserve to die, but she didn't think that she could live with herself, knowing that this would be no split-second decision made while fighting for her life. If she left them now, it would be a death sentence.

Cursing her own inability to just leave things alone, she marched over to the men and carefully unfroze the ice around their faces so that they could at least breathe. Of course, they'd shiver and suffer until the last of their frozen traps had melted, maybe even get sick from the intense cold, but that was their problem. She had given them the chance to live. There was nothing more she could—or would—do for these scum who called themselves men.

"Let's get out of here," she said, turning to face the Blue Spirit. "I'm sick of this place."

He stared at her for a moment, then just nodded and clambered on top of Scratch before holding out a hand to assist her. She accepted his help and suddenly had the oddest sensation of being weightless as she was yanked up to sit behind him. Katara frowned as she wondered what she was supposed to hold onto to stop herself from falling off—it wasn't like Scratch had a nice saddle to keep her secure like Appa—but then the ostrich-horse was moving at a rapid pace, almost unseating her with the momentum, and she didn't pause to think. She wrapped her arms around the Blue Spirit's waist and held on tight.

It was a relief when they finally escaped the cave, greeting a sky painted in the colours of fire. Scratch also seemed happy to be out of the darkness of the outlaws' hideout and quickened his pace as if he were about to spread his stumpy wings and take flight any moment. In no time at all they were making their way through the ruined town, past the dried up well and then onto the dusty plains where they had seen the old man and his wagon. Katara tried to pay attention to where they were going, but now that the adrenaline rush of battle had worn off, she just felt exhausted. She had expended too much energy with her final water attack. After healing on top of such an intense display of bending, not to mention while thirsty and travelling on an empty stomach for most of the day, she just felt like a dried up sponge that would crumble any moment.

So Katara did not notice when the sky began to darken as they backtracked all the way to where the Blue Spirit had last seen the tank markings. Instead, she closed her eyes and rested her chin against his shoulder, relaxing against his back with her arms wrapped around him.

 _He's so warm_ , she thought with muzzy contentment.

It was something she had noticed every time they had touched, but now that warmth was all around her, like one of Gran-Gran's big snuggly blankets that she had used to wrap herself up in when cold. A sleepy smile curved her lips and she let out a deep breath as she hugged him closer. When Katara opened her eyes again, the moon was up and she was lying on the ground next to a small fire. Scratch was curled up asleep not far from her under a scraggly tree, but there was no sign of her masked companion.

"Blue?" she called, sitting up and staring around the clearing.

Her breath caught when she saw him sitting on a boulder near the edge of the cliff some distance away. He had discarded his undershirt and tunic, and in that moment he was like a statue carved into the rock, his skin pale in the moonlight. She couldn't help but stare, transfixed by the sight before her. Without the wads of fabric covering him, she saw that he was all sinewy muscle and defined ridges, a blade honed to perfection. Something warm stirred in her blood, making her pulse quicken and her cheeks flush, but then it finally occurred to her what he was doing. He wasn't just sitting shirtless on a rock; he was examining something on his chest just below the right side of his ribs.

Her breath caught for quite a different reason, and suddenly she was on her feet and marching towards him. "You're hurt! Why didn't you tell me?"

The Blue Spirit sighed and stood up, making to walk past her.

"Hold it!" She grabbed his arm. "You're not going anywhere until that wound is healed."

He made a frustrated sound and was about to wrench his arm free, but Katara gripped his shoulder with her free hand and turned him to face her.

"Hey," she said more softly, holding his gaze. "I know you're used to being alone and not having anyone around whom you can trust aside from Scratch, but you don't need to push me away. I just want to help."

The Blue Spirit inhaled a sharp breath. She could feel the tension quivering in his body as they stood there staring at each, so close that she could almost see his eyes beyond the shadowed slits that hid his gaze from view. It was agonising to do nothing, to just wait like he had done with Scratch in the cave, hoping that his defences would fall and she would be allowed closer. Then he just averted his face and nodded once. He would trust her, for now.

Katara smiled and reached for her water skin. "This might feel a bit weird," she warned as she summoned the liquid to surround her palms.

He just raised his right arm, allowing her access to the gash that had been carved into his ribs and which extended right round to his side. It looked as if he had already cleaned the area, though there were still a few streaks of dried blood staining his skin, even as fresh trails trickled out from the open wound. She couldn't believe that he had travelled all that time on the ostrich-horse with the injury and said nothing, not even a hint. A part of her wanted to scold him for such stubbornness and stupidity, but then she doubted he would listen. Besides, right now she just needed to focus on sealing the wound so that he wouldn't bleed to death. Didn't stop her from calling him an idiot in her head, though.

"Just relax," Katara murmured, placing her glowing hands on top of the gash.

His body tensed at her touch, but then her healing powers took root, knitting flesh back together with gentle precision. He slowly began to lose some of his rigidity. Even as he calmed, however, his gaze continued to follow her every move, and she didn't understand why the feeling should make her stomach give a funny flutter. This wasn't the first time she had used her bending to heal someone, yet somehow the experience was so different with him. So much more intense. She was conscious of his presence like a blazing sun, so solid and warm and just so present. By the time the blue light had faded from her hands, her heart was pounding and her mouth felt dry.

"There," she said, not quite able to resist smoothing a hand over the newly healed skin. "You're all healed."

The Blue Spirit didn't move at first, and she was surprised when he reached out and brushed his fingers against her jaw in a light caress—her bruised, throbbing jaw. _"You should heal that as well,"_ he seemed to say.

Her cheeks warmed. If her stomach had fluttered earlier, it was a whole circus act of swoops and soars now, but she somehow managed to find her voice to agree. The Blue Spirit nodded and stepped past her to slip his shirt and tunic back on. Katara simply told herself to get a grip—really, he was just one stupid swordsman wearing a mask—and set about healing the bruise on her jaw. Once she had finished, she went to join the Blue Spirit by the fire.

"Don't suppose you have any food?" she asked after a moment.

He shook his head.

She sighed and rested back on her palms. "Great."

It seemed they really were going to have to starve. No breakfast, no lunch, and now no dinner. She almost missed Sokka's nut-shaped rocks.

The Blue Spirit leaned forward and scratched something into the dirt, close to the light of the fire.

 _"The hunger will pass,"_ he wrote. _"Just try to get some sleep. We'll find food tomorrow."_

Katara nodded, knowing there was nothing else they could do. It was late, they were both tired, and Scratch was fast asleep. So, forcing herself to ignore the hungry grumblings of her stomach, she curled up by the fire and tucked her hands under her chin, watching him through the orange glow of the flames.

"Aren't you going to lie down?" she asked.

_"Someone needs to keep watch."_

"Don't be ridiculous. You're exhausted, even if you don't want to admit it, and I doubt anyone is going to find us out here at this time of night. You might as well just get some rest while you can. We've got another long day ahead of us, and you're not going to be of much use to me if you're barely awake to lead Scratch."

He looked like he was going to argue, but then he just sighed and lay down next to her, using his arm as a pillow. She blinked in surprise. He really must have been tired if he had been willing to give in that easily. He didn't seem like the type. Not that she was complaining. The night was cold, and having him closer made it a little easier for her to block out some of the wind that insisted on blowing. Well, almost.

"Night, Blue," she murmured sleepily, closing her eyes.

He didn't respond of course, but then he didn't have to. Just knowing that he trusted her enough to sleep beside her was more than enough.


	4. Trust Issues

Katara awoke to find herself pressed against something solid and warm. She smiled in sleepy contentment and snuggled closer, letting her hand glide along coarse fabric as she sought to hug the source of heat to her body like a pillow. Her fingers stilled when she felt something thrum under her palm like a drum pounding to a steady rhythm. No, not a drum. A heartbeat.

Her eyes snapped opened, and she bit back a gasp when she saw the blue mask covering her "pillow's" face. The mask that was now far, far too close. In fact, everything about this situation was too close. Somehow, she had managed to wrap herself around him like a starfish-snail, with one leg curled around his waist so that she could feel every inch of his lithe, sinewy frame. No doubt the cold had driven her to seek out his warmth during the night; it was the only explanation for why she had tried to become a human extension of his body.

Katara bit her lip, heat rising to her cheeks. She should get off him. Right now. He could wake up any moment, and she had gathered enough about him to know that he probably wouldn't appreciate finding himself with a snuggle buddy. As she began to extricate herself, however, she found her gaze drifting back to the mask glinting in hints of blue in the early dawn light. She'd never been this close to the wooden disguise before. It occurred to her that all she had to do was reach out just a few centimetres and she would be able to raise it from his face. She would be able to see him.

Heart pounding, she touched the edge of his mask and began to gently slide the wood upwards, desperate not to wake him. A part of her knew what she was doing was wrong—that she was betraying his trust in the worst way possible—but then she could see the beginnings of a smooth jaw, followed by his mouth, then moving up to high-boned cheeks, though the left side seemed oddly discoloured and—

Fingers closed around her wrist, stopping her from raising the mask any higher. Katara's heart gave a wild thud against her ribs. It didn't even matter that she couldn't make out his eyes clearly through the slits of his mask or that he didn't say a word; his displeasure was so tangible that she could feel it like a stone wall pressing down on her, crushing her with the weight of her guilt.

"Blue, I—"

He thrust her hand away and pulled the mask back down to cover the lower half of his features. Katara fell silent, allowing him to brush her aside as he got to his feet so that she was no longer leaning over him. He didn't once look back at her. Just staring at his rigid back made something heavy plummet in her stomach, like a stone dropped from a great height.

"I'm sorry," she said when he continued to face the other way. "I shouldn't have done that. I just wanted—"

He marched over to where Scratch was sleeping, not bothering to let her finish. She trailed off in discomfort, watching as he woke up the sleepy ostrich-horse and then swung himself onto the creature's back. It took her a moment to realise what was happening, but then he urged Scratch into action and it clicked that he wasn't waiting for her. He was just going to leave her here in the middle of nowhere. Just like that.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. "I'm sorry! Please don't go! I swear I didn't even see much of your face, and—"

The Blue Spirit raced off on the ostrich-horse, leaving her staring open-mouthed at his fading silhouette. The stone in her stomach seemed to drop even further, settling like an anchor of guilt and misery inside her belly. After everything they had been through together, he had just left her. The worst part was that she knew she deserved it.

"Why did I have to look?" she groaned, sitting back on the ground and burying her face in her knees.

If she had just kept her curiosity to herself, if she had just allowed him to open up to her in his own time, maybe he would still be with her right now. Maybe she wouldn't be sitting alone under a scraggly tree, wondering how she was ever going to find her friends with no Scratch and no Blue Spirit to assist her. But she had chosen to look, and now she had to suffer the consequences.

Katara sighed and raised her head from her burrow, resting her chin against her knees as she looked out to where the Blue Spirit and Scratch had headed. The sun was still establishing itself in the sky, like a pale strip breaking through the darkness to spread its light. She knew that she could start travelling again if she wanted, but even the thought made her feel like someone had shoved a cold rock down her throat, which she had no choice but to swallow and let sink to join the other stone of emotions already weighing her down. It didn't matter if this whole partnership had been about finding Aang and the others or that she had only known the Blue Spirit for a day. What mattered was that he had become her friend, and now she had lost that friendship. She had lost him.

She was still wondering if she would ever see her masked companion again when she drifted back to sleep.

oOo

Something was nudging her in the ribs. Katara curled her body into a ball, trying to escape the invasive prodding. Her tormenter had other ideas and just kept on nudging.

"Stop it, Sokka," she groaned, rolling the other way.

That was when she froze. Her mind, hazy with sleep, had finally grasped the fact that it had been several days since she had last seen her aggravating (but loveable) brother, and that whatever was poking her in the side right now definitely wasn't his foot. Heart jumping with panic, Katara sat up and summoned her water to get ready to attack, only to pause when she saw the blue mask peering down at her.

"Blue!" she cried, springing to her feet and throwing her arms around the boy in a hug that was more tackle than embrace. "You came back!"

The Blue Spirit made a muffled sound and stumbled backwards from the impact, but somehow he managed to keep them both standing. Katara pulled back slightly, still keeping her hands on his shoulders as she grinned up at him. Suddenly, her smile faded as she remembered why he had left so abruptly in the first place.

"I really am sorry for trying to look under your mask," she said, lowering her head. "I know what it must have meant for you to drop your guard like that, and I repaid you by betraying your trust for my own curiosity." She cast him a side-long glance, trying to gauge through his body language what he was thinking. "I hope you can forgive me."

He disengaged himself from her hold and removed the sack that had been slung over his shoulder, handing it to her while looking the other way. She frowned as she accepted the bundle. Even if he had chosen to come back, it seemed he wasn't going to make things easy for her—at least not enough to let her know if he had accepted her apology or not.

"What's this?" she asked, loosening the tie, and then a breath escaped her lips.

The sack was filled with food: a loaf of bread, fat hunks of cheese, some fruit, and a small bag of rice, though there was no cooking pot.

"Where did you get all this?" she exclaimed in wonder, raising her eyes back to his.

 _"What does it matter?"_ he wrote into the dirt. _"It's food, isn't it? Just eat. You're going to need your strength."_

Katara pursed her lips. She had a feeling the food might have been stolen, no doubt from some poor traveller, and that was something she could not like. It was true that she had once acquired a waterbending scroll from some pirates via questionable means—or, as said pirates liked to call it, high risk trading—but thievery was still something she knew to be wrong. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of moral compass the Blue Spirit lived by, for she had already seen him kill with brutal efficiency. Now it seemed he thought stealing was okay as well.

Her stomach gave a loud and very embarrassing rumble. Katara bit her lip. Well, maybe some allowances could be made. She had eaten practically nothing for several days now, and he was right that she would need her strength. Plus, that bread and cheese did look delicious.

"I guess it can't hurt," she said with a shrug, then ripped off some of the bread. "Thanks."

The Blue Spirit stared at her for a moment and made an odd sound that might have been a suppressed laugh. He reached into his tunic and handed her a sheathed dagger. When she just stared at him curiously, he pointed to the bread and cheese and mimed cutting.

"Oh," she said, catching on. "Right, that would be easier."

He nodded and went to tend to Scratch, content to let her eat her breakfast alone. A crease formed on her brow as she unsheathed the blade and saw the inscription etched onto each side. She wasn't sure why someone would bother to put on such a beautifully crafted knife that it was made in the Earth Kingdom (perhaps the blacksmith's idea of a joke?), but it was the other that made her pause.

"Never give up without a fight," she read aloud, running her fingers over the characters.

Her gaze drifted to the stoic warrior, taking in his build and, for the first time, the regal way in which he carried himself. No, he was definitely no ordinary swordsman. The quality of his calligraphy alone had been enough to convince her of that, but after seeing the superior craftsmanship of his dagger, she knew that he had to be high nobility at least. Unless he had stolen the knife, but then how did that explain his skill with writing?

"This is a very nice dagger," she commented, after swallowing a mouthful of food. "Where did you get it?"

The Blue Spirit tensed slightly, no doubt bothered by her incessant curiosity. She again felt a stab of worry that she might have overstepped some boundary, especially after what had happened that morning, but he just sighed and picked up a stick from the ground. In obvious resignation, he sat down next to her and began scratching characters into the dirt.

_"I didn't steal it, if that was what you were wondering. My uncle gave it to me as a gift while he was fighting in the war."_

"It must be very important to you," she said softly. It was probably the only possession from his home that he still carried with him. "I'm surprised you're okay with me using it to cut something as mundane as bread and cheese."

He was still for a moment as if thinking about another time and place where he had not needed to wear a mask or to travel in such hard conditions. _"It's been a long time since I kept a weapon for purely ornamental purposes,"_ he wrote slowly. _"It doesn't matter what the blade is used for now, just that it is useful."_

"Blue," she murmured, sensing the wistful sadness disguised beneath the bluntness of his words.

He stood up in a jerky movement, slipping away from her outstretched hand. _"Eat"_ , he wrote hastily. " _We'll be leaving soon_."

Katara repressed a sigh as she watched him head back to Scratch, leaving her alone with the dagger and sack of food. Every time she thought she was making progress with him, he would quickly shut her out again. Still, she had learnt that he had an uncle, that he was definitely of noble birth, and that he did not enjoy his current lifestyle. It made her wonder why he had become a wandering vigilante in the first place, let alone why he was so determined not to let her see under the mask.

She frowned, remembering the strange discolouring on the left side of his face, almost like a—

"Scar," she whispered.

Her eyes locked with his, but he averted his face a second later. Katara knew better than to question him about what she had seen under his mask, but it did make her wonder. Just what had happened to this boy to make him fall so far from the noble he had obviously been, and was it shame or necessity that made him wear the mask?

Maybe he would never tell her the truth, but Katara knew one thing: she was just happy to have him back. He might be a mute swordsman with a questionable moral compass, but he was her friend and she did enjoy his company. A nagging voice reminded her that her heart had got her in trouble before for getting too involved with mysterious strangers, that it was her fondness for Jet that had almost seen her kill an entire village thanks to his manipulation and deception. But then Blue was not Jet; he was not smooth and charming, and he had not even wanted her to come along with him after he had first rescued her. Sure, there was no doubt that the Blue Spirit had his secrets, but she was certain they couldn't be that bad. At least not of the "help me wipe out all the Fire Nation villagers" kind.

Katara finished her last mouthful of breakfast and stood up, dusting the crumbs of her robe with her hands. "Ready to go?" she asked, plastering a smile on her lips.

The Blue Spirit nodded and secured their belonging's onto the ostrich-horse, then clambered up on Scratch and reached down to pull her up. Katara accepted his assistance and was soon settled behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist. As they headed along the path leading away from the cliff edge, she wondered if they would catch up to her brother and friends today. When she asked the Blue Spirit what he thought, he could only shake his head.

"What do you mean by that?" Katara demanded.

Her companion remained silent and focussed on making sure the ostrich-horse continued to follow the tank tracks imprinted onto the earth. Katara sighed and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"I wish you could talk," she muttered more to herself. "This would be so much easier if you didn't have to write everything down."

The Blue Spirit offered no response, so Katara settled more comfortably behind him and resigned herself to a period of silence. Not that she was about to let him off the hook that easily. The next break they had, she was going to make sure she got some more answers.

oOo

Sokka peered over the bison's saddle, scanning the rugged landscape below. "I don't believe it!" he exclaimed, turning back to stare at his friends. "That crazy tank is still following us!"

Toph groaned. "You think they'd give it a rest by now."

Aang took a firmer grip on Appa's reins. "We're never going to find Katara if we can't escape this tank. Every time we try to land, it's right there ready to attack."

"Then maybe we should make a stand," Toph declared, punching her right fist into her palm. "Give whoever's manning that thing a taste of the old Toph medicine."

Sokka and Aang exchanged glances.

"I guess it's worth a shot," Sokka said with a shrug. "Outrunning them clearly hasn't worked."

"You're right," Aang agreed, turning in his seat to face the front. "Appa is exhausted anyway. We've been pushing him too hard."

With that decision made, the tired group descended to a hilltop where they waited for their pursuers to catch up with them. Sokka blinked in a desperate attempt to keep his eyes open, holding his boomerang at the ready in case he needed to defend himself. On his left, Toph stood with her feet planted firmly on the ground, listening with her bending to gauge their hunters' position. Aang stood a little ahead of the duo, staff in hand and a grim expression on his face.

"Get ready," Toph murmured. "Three large things have just emerged from the tank."

Sokka's eyes widened as he spotted what Toph had sensed. "That would be three eel-hounds, and I think I recognise those riders. It's those crazy girls from Omashu!"

As if on cue, a jet of blue flames came rocketing towards them and probably would have blasted them off the hilltop had Aang not diffused the attack with a gust of wind. Sokka took in a shaky breath, but there was no time for a respite as now the girl with the projectile weapons was firing her small arrows at them with deadly accuracy from the mechanisations tucked inside her sleeves.

"Toph, rock barrier!" Sokka shouted.

Immediately, a wall of earth came up between the three and the looming arrows. Momo chittered in agitation from Appa's saddle, clearly stating that he did not like the situation and wanted to go. Sokka had to admit that he was in agreement. He was a proud warrior and was confident in his skills, but right now he and his friends were barely able to stand, and it was obvious the three girls were fresh and ready to do battle. Not to mention they had the eel-hounds and a tank to give them an advantage.

"Aang, I think we better get out of here," he yelled, turning to his friend. "We can't beat these three like this."

Especially when they didn't have Katara. Not only was his sister a powerful bender, but she could heal as well. If one of them got hurt now, it would all be over.

Aang looked torn as he glanced at the oncoming Fire Nation warriors, then glanced back at his friends. "Okay," he said finally. "Let's get out of here."

Leaping back onto the bison, he settled himself on Appa's head and picked up the reins. Sokka turned to the little earthbender beside him, who was still tossing rocks at their opponents.

"Toph, come on!" Sokka shouted, even as he clambered up into the saddle. "We're leaving!"

Toph gave an angry growl, clearly not liking having to flee, but understanding the necessity. She threw one last rock at the girl in pink and then used her bending to shoot herself into the air just as a bolt of lightning came crackling towards them in a streak of pure energy. Sokka didn't hear Aang give the command for Appa to get moving; he just reached out and caught the airborne Toph so that she wouldn't fall, and then there was an explosion of rock and light.

"Woah," the earthbender muttered, resting against Sokka's chest. "That was close."

Sokka looked over the edge of the saddle to where a jagged crevice had been gouged into the hilltop. If they had taken just a second longer to get in the air, they would have been struck by the crazy girl's lightning. He sighed in a mixture of exhaustion and relief, then just leaned back against the saddle.

"Let's not do that again, okay?" he said tiredly. "We saw who they were, we know they want to kill us, and now I say we just get the heck out of here."

Momo jumped onto his head, chittering in agreement.

Aang's shoulders slumped. "What about Katara?"

"Don't worry, Twinkletoes," Toph responded, settling into a more dignified position in the saddle. "Katara was bold enough to stand up to me—even if she was being stupid and putting her Team Mum nose where it didn't belong. I don't think she's going to go down that easily. We'll see her again."

"I guess," he said in a heavy voice.

Sokka said nothing and simply went back to peering down at the landscape. It had been over twenty-four hours since they had realised his sister had fallen over the side of the saddle during their escape from the tank. To say that he was worried was an understatement. It wasn't that he didn't doubt that she had the skills to survive. No, what had him worried was that she might have got herself into even bigger trouble with that big, trusting heart of hers. He knew his sister, and while he had no doubt he would see her again, he did have to wonder under what circumstances that would be and if she would be bringing a stray polar-dog along with her.

He sighed and rested his head on his hand, looking out into the distance. "Katara, I hope you're safe."

oOo

It was past noon when Katara and her masked companion stopped for a break. She wasted no time in demanding her answers, but as they had travelled she had already guessed what the response would be. It turned out that the tank had been doing a lot of circles, looping round and round and zigzagging in some weird course that wouldn't have made much sense had she not already known that it was chasing a flying bison. The Blue Spirit guessed that her friends were probably looking for her, which is why they had been reluctant to leave the surrounding area for so long, but something must have happened to make them change their minds.

Katara nodded, remembering when the masked warrior had pointed out the freshest tracks, which had finally started taking a straighter course away from the area. She hoped Sokka and the others were okay, though there was something else that was bothering her as well. Her gaze drifted back to the Blue Spirit.

"Can I ask you something?"

He nodded.

"You said we had a common enemy. Do you know who is in that tank?"

The stick remained still in his hand for a moment, and then he sighed and began to write. _"My guess is the Princess of the Fire Nation. She hopes to capture the Avatar."_

Katara made an exasperated sound. "Does everyone want to capture Aang in that family? First Zuko, and now his sister!"

 _"You don't understand,"_ he wrote in sharp, jerky lines. _"Prince Zuko never wanted to harm the Avatar; he had no choice in the matter. Azula is just doing this because she wants glory and to make sure her brother can never come home."_

Katara folded her arms across her chest. "What do you know about it? You weren't the one being chased by that jerk all across the world, because I have to say those fireballs felt pretty hot to me."

The Blue Spirit started to write something and then changed his mind, quickly scrubbing out the characters with his palm.

"What?" Katara demanded. "What were you going to write?"

He just shook his head and stood up, making his way over to Scratch.

"Oh, great," she muttered. "Just go back to ignoring me."

He clambered on his mount and gave her a pointed look, as if to ask if she was coming. Katara pursed her lips, but she knew a losing battle when she saw one and went to join him on the ostrich-horse. In her mind, however, she was far from satisfied. She couldn't help but feel like she was missing the obvious, as if she had the final piece of the puzzle in her hand but couldn't see the space where to put it.

She was still mulling over the matter when something hit her in the back, spreading out in an explosion of pain. A gasp escaped her lips, and then she was falling, falling, falling, only dimly aware of someone calling her name. Then her head collided with something hard and the world went black.


	5. Behind the Blue

Pain. For a moment that was all Katara knew, feeling it pound through her body as she drifted in an abyss of black. Sometimes she caught snatches of the world outside: of being cradled against something warm and solid as an ostrich-horse was urged to run faster and faster, of a boy's voice telling her to hold on, sounding so vulnerable and desperate. He seemed oddly familiar to her, but every time she tried to pinpoint his identity the darkness would drag her back under, leaving her drowning in the confused tangle of her thoughts.

Katara didn't know how long she remained in this state, but eventually the shadows grew less tangible, the pain less consuming, and soon her eyelashes were fluttering open. A wall of trees greeted her vision. She groaned and sat up, then immediately regretted the action as the skin on her back seemed to stretch and shred with the movement. Black spots danced before her eyes in blurry flashes and then she was falling forward, even as hands reached out to catch her, letting her rest against that now familiar solid warmth.

"Blue," she murmured, raising her eyes to see the demonic mask grinning down at her.

He slipped one of his hands behind her neck while the other continued to hold her by the waist, gently lowering her onto the makeshift bed he had prepared for her. She winced as her head brushed against the surface, bruises throbbing in protest at the contact, but that was of little interest to her in that moment. Despite her disorientation, she had a nagging thought that something important had happened before she had slipped unconscious. Something about her masked companion that she needed to remember.

"You spoke," she gasped, her eyes widening with the realisation.

He shook his head—a little too emphatically.

"You did," she insisted. "Before I passed out, I heard you." Her eyes locked with his shadowed gaze. "You said my name."

His whole body seemed to tense as if a current of energy had shot through him and paralysed his every limb. For a moment they just stared at each other, and then he turned away, shoulders hunching forward in a defensive posture. Katara didn't need to hear his words to know the truth. His silence said enough.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. "Why all this pretence and secrecy? All this time you could speak and you just—"

"I had to do what was necessary," he said flatly, still not looking at her.

His voice was low and raspy, and the sound of it niggled at her memory, whispering of a shadow in her past. She found herself staring at him more closely, once more taking in his height and lean build. Was it possible she had met him before? He had seemed to know an awful lot about her when they had first set out to find Scratch, even that she had been travelling with others.

"Why would it have been necessary for you to hide your voice from me?" she asked in growing suspicion. "What aren't you telling me, Blue?"

He stared at a point on the ground, refusing to look at or even answer her. Katara could see that she would have to use different tactics and reached out to clasp his arm.

"Listen," she said softly, "I don't understand why you pretended that you were mute, but I want you to know that you can trust me." A smile tugged at her lips. "You saved my life—twice, in fact. I owe you a lot."

He glanced down at her hand resting on his sleeve. "That's just the problem, Katara. You don't understand."

"Then tell me." She tightened her grip on his arm, staring at him in earnest. "Help me to understand."

He stared at her for a long moment and then sighed, averting his face as he slipped his arm free of her grasp. "It was a mistake when I said your name. It would be easier for both of us if you just pretended that it didn't happen."

She pursed her lips. "Well, I'm sorry but I can't do that. Besides, I refuse to let you go back to scribbling words in the dirt now that I know you can speak."

"That's too bad. It was a lot easier to ignore your pointless chatter when I was pretending to be mute."

Her cheeks flushed. "Why you—"

The Blue Spirit ducked her attack with ease, but a sharp gasp from Katara had him quickly moving towards her again.

"Perhaps you shouldn't try to hit me right now," he advised, helping her to stay upright. "You got hurt pretty bad when those Fire Nation soldiers attacked us."

Katara winced and reached for her water flask, but all she grabbed was handfuls of her robe. "Where's my water?" she asked, glancing back at the masked warrior. "If you bring me that, I should be able to heal myself."

He rubbed the base of his neck. "I took it off when I was bandaging your wound. I must have left it ..." He stood up as he spoke and walked over to what looked like a feathery bundle on the ground, but which she realised was actually Scratch sleeping in a curled up position. "Here it is."

She took the flask from him with a word of thanks and began to undo her robe, letting the material slip down to her waist so that her chest and midriff were bare except for the white wrappings that covered her breasts. For some reason she felt more conscious of her bared skin than when she had been wearing the same attire around Sokka and Aang, but she quickly got over her embarrassment. It was difficult to fret over teenage awkwardness when every movement made her back throb and twinge, and that pain only got worse when she reached over her shoulder with a hand gloved in water, trying to find the wound. The Blue Spirit watched her struggle for a moment before he knelt beside her.

"Here," he murmured, guiding her hand to the injury.

Katara inhaled shakily at his proximity, feeling his breath brush against her bare skin like the caress of butterfly wings. Then her fingers touched damp fabric and she was distracted by a shock of pain. Yes, that was definitely the spot, resting at a point below her right shoulder. She was lucky whatever had hit her hadn't pierced any main arteries.

"You're going to have to remove the bandage," she told him between clenched teeth, holding back a hiss.

He began unfastening the cloth in response. It occurred to her as he unwound the material that he must have removed her robe himself while she had been unconscious in order to dress her injury. She didn't know what she thought of that, but it did make her stomach flutter in an odd, swooping sort of flop. Then the Blue Spirit was placing her palm over the now uncovered wound, and she immediately focussed on the task at hand.

Closing her eyes, Katara summoned the energy inside her and let it spread through her chi paths, extending all the way to her fingers where it connected with torn and bloodied flesh. The injury knitted back together as her healing powers took root, recreating what had been hurt so that only the splashes of crimson staining her skin told of the damage that had existed. Once she was satisfied, she set about healing the lumps and bruises that scattered her body from falling off the ostrich-horse. She was just healing the last of the tender spots when she caught the Blue Spirit staring at her with his head cocked to the side.

"What?" she asked, cheeks warming in a blush.

She might not be able to see his expression, but she had grown accustomed to his mannerisms enough to know that he was staring at her pretty intently under that mask.

"It's nothing," he said quickly, looking the other way. "I just don't think I'll ever get used to how easily you do that."

"You mean heal?"

He nodded.

Katara let the glowing light fade from her hand and returned the last of her water to the flask resting on her lap. "I haven't always been able to heal. I mean, I guess I have, but I didn't know I could do it until Aang burnt me when he was learning firebending."

"The Avatar burnt you?" the Blue Spirit exclaimed, turning back to face her.

"By accident." She slipped her robe back on and fastened the tie around her midriff. "My hands were so raw and sore. I was sure the burn was going to leave a scar, but when I placed them in the river to ease the pain, well, see for yourself."

Katara held out her hands to him, showing him her palms. As if in trance, he trailed one of his fingers along the unmarred skin on her right hand. She was struck by how pale he was compared to her own skin—struck even more by his gentle touch, almost wistful in its caress. Something about her healing powers fascinated him. Fascinated and saddened. It was then she remembered what she had seen under his mask: a glimpse of discoloured skin on the left side of his cheek, looking rough and disfigured even in the dusky light. A scar.

"Blue," she murmured, finally realising the truth.

Because he had also been burnt, and there had been no waterbender to heal him. He had been left to suffer.

His eyes locked with hers through the shadowed slits of his mask, and she saw the way his body tensed, saw how he realised that he had revealed too much and was now desperately trying to retreat back into himself to cover all trace of his hurt and vulnerability. It broke her heart, but it also made a flicker of panic flutter in her breast. The memory niggling at her mind had become a bit more tangible, whispering of truths she did not want to accept. Whispering of truths that she knew would change everything if her suspicions were proven correct.

"We should get moving," he said, standing up and facing the other way. "The longer we stay here, the longer it will take for us to catch up to your friends. Plus, those Fire Nation soldiers are probably still looking for us."

Katara swallowed, not sure if she was disappointed or relieved that he had changed the subject. In a daze, she got to her feet and picked up the blanket on which she had been resting. He took it from her without a word and coaxed Scratch awake so that he could pack their belongings—however questionably acquired—back onto the ostrich-horse. Katara could only stand and watch, panic fluttering in her chest more insistently until she started to feel a little sick. Everything was upside down, her emotions so twisted and tangled that there was no making sense of anything. The only constant was the voice echoing in her head, repeating over and over that it couldn't be. It just couldn't. Blue was her friend. It was just a coincidence that he and that boy from her past were so similar. Just a coincidence.

But try as she might, she could not stop the doubt and suspicion from sinking further into her heart, like grains of sand slipping through cupped hands. He had known who she was. He had an uncle who had given him a dagger that was of the highest craftsmanship. Somehow, he had made the fires go out in the outlaws' hideout, and then she remembered that the ice had already been melting around his body before she had even got a chance to use her bending. The height and build were the same, and his voice, so low and raspy, was distinct enough that she knew she was only fooling herself by pretending she did not remember.

_"You rise with the moon. I rise with the sun."_

A shuddery breath escaped her lips. "Wait!"

He finished fastening the last of their belongings and then stared at her with his head tilted in question. Heart thumping and as if some puppeteer had taken control of her body, she found her feet taking her closer to the masked warrior until she was standing directly in front of him. He took a step backwards, no doubt unnerved by her proximity, but she followed the movement and stared at his mask with frantic eyes.

"I have to know," she murmured. "I have to know the truth."

She touched the edges of the blue-painted wood, but his hands immediately came up and gripped her wrists.

"Don't," he ordered.

Her heart quickened, and in that moment she was back on a riverbank and running for her life. She was running and running until she collided with something warm and solid, feeling fingers fasten around her wrists in exactly the same way.

_"I'll save you from the pirates."_

Katara inhaled, snapping out of the memory. For a long moment they just stared at each other, even as her heart pounded faster and faster. Then he released her wrists and let his hands drop to his sides. He didn't say a word; instead, he bowed his head in surrender, letting her do what she must. They both knew that there could be no pretending now.

Fingers trembling, she removed the mask from his face and her stomach clenched in recognition. The ponytail was gone, replaced with jagged strands of black that covered all of his head, but there could be no mistaking those mismatched features. The right side of his face was smooth and angular—dare she think it almost handsome—but the left was a scarred mess that extended from his forehead to partway down his cheek, and reached all the way to his crumpled ear. His eyebrow had been burnt off completely, the nerves so damaged that no hairs could grow back, and his left eye had been sealed into an upward slit, twisting his expression into a permanent glare. He was a strange mixture of ugliness and beauty, and in that he would always be unforgettable.

"Zuko," she said softly, letting the mask clatter to the ground between them.

He met her gaze without flinching, as if by shedding the mask he had also shed his reluctance to embrace his identity around her. _I am who I am_ , he seemed to say through his fire-tinted eyes. _I warned you that you would not like the truth, but I'm not going to apologise for it either._

Katara swallowed and took a step back, putting some distance between them. She had expected to see his face under the mask, but having her suspicions confirmed still left her emotions in a jumble. Disappointment, anger, curiosity, confusion—it was all there swirling inside her, like colourful threads tangled in a mess that could not be separated. She didn't know how to respond to him. She barely even knew what to think. The boy she had come to call a friend was the same as the one she called her enemy. It was Prince Zuko who had fought beside her, protected her, and made her stomach come alive with butterflies. When she had held him close, it had been Prince Zuko's warmth she had been sharing; when she had healed his wound, it had been her enemy's body that she had admired and touched. It was a horrible, horrible realisation, for now she had to somehow align the two identities as one, and her feelings refused to let her. She had always hated Prince Zuko, but she could not hate the Blue Spirit.

Zuko watched her struggle a moment longer and, when she continued to say nothing, turned the other way. "We have to keep moving," he said flatly. "Make up your mind now whether you still wish to travel with me, because I'm not going to wait for you."

That did snap her out of her daze, though she still felt conflicted. "How can I know if I can trust you?" she asked. "You said you would help me, but you're—" She made a helpless gesture towards him and shook her head. "I just can't believe the boy who saved my life is the same as the one who has been hunting Aang all this time."

"We had a deal, right?"

She nodded. "I help you find Scratch and you would help me find my friends."

He met her eyes steadily. "I won't go back on my word, Katara."

"But—"

"Look." He took a step towards her. "Right now my sister is out there hunting the Avatar. Whatever you think of me, believe me when I say that it would be a very bad thing if she catches up to him before we do. I have to stop her. That's all I care about right now."

Katara stared at him searchingly, trying to see if he was being sincere. Then she let out a small breath. "Okay."

Zuko didn't bother to respond. Instead, he clambered up on Scratch and held out his hand to her, looking at her expectantly. Katara hesitated only a second before accepting his outstretched hand and was swung up behind him so that she was once more sitting with her arms wrapped around his middle. A heartbeat later and they were off, racing through the trees and forcing her to press herself right up against his back so that stray branches would not knock her off the ostrich-horse.

Somewhere behind them, the Blue Spirit mask lay glinting in flashes of blue among the forest foliage. Neither of them looked back.

oOo

Sokka patted his grumbling stomach. It felt like days since he had last had a proper meal, being reduced to eating whatever Momo and Aang could scavenge during the brief periods when they weren't being hunted by Gloomy Knife Girl, Creepy Pinky, and Psycho Blue Flames. To say that the situation was frustrating was an understatement. Even Zuko had never been this determined to capture Aang—at least not enough for Sokka and his friends to be forced to skip meals and sleep. What he wouldn't give for some fish right now or a nice, fat piece of steak.

"Mm, steak," Sokka mumbled, closing his eyes.

Something hit him in the head.

"Ow," he groaned, opening one eye to glare at the earthbender sitting opposite him.

"Quit salivating," Toph ordered, folding her arms. "We need to come up with a plan to ditch those Fire Nation girls so we can find Sugar Queen. It's obvious they've been tracking us by following Appa's fur, but—"

"Wait, what?" Sokka exclaimed, sitting up straight. "You mean you knew all this time how they were finding us and you only thought to tell us this now?"

Toph shrugged. "You never asked, and I just assumed you knew. I mean, you're the ones who can actually see the fur." She waved her hand in front of her milky-green eyes for emphasis.

Sokka smacked his palm against his forehead. "I don't believe this. Almost two days of being chased by the psychotic trio, eating nothing but berries and nuts, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Toph interjected, waving a dismissive hand. "We get the point. So what's the plan?"

The Water Tribe boy closed his mouth, looking a little disgruntled that his tirade had been interrupted. Such an expression was wasted on Toph, however, so he was quick to put aside his wounded dignity and instead focussed on the task at hand, rubbing his chin in thought as he considered their options.

"I think I have an idea," Aang said, turning his head to look back at them from his perch. "They're tracking us by following the fur Appa has been shedding, right?"

"Right," Sokka and Toph agreed.

Aang flashed a grin. "Then we'll give them a trail to follow. All we need is a river and some bison-friendly hairbrushes."

Sokka's mouth curved into an answering smile. "You know, this might actually work."

"It better," Aang said grimly. "We haven't seen any sign of Katara for almost two days now. I'm getting worried."

"You're not the only one," the older boy muttered, more to himself.

He had tried not to think about it too much, but the fear was always lurking at the back of his mind. Wherever his sister was, he hoped she was safe. He hoped they would find her soon.

oOo

It had been over an hour since Katara had first learned of her companion's true identity. As they had travelled, she had asked him about what had happened after she had blacked out. Zuko explained that they had been ambushed by Fire Nation soldiers who had been camped in the area, though the attack was more coincidental than planned. One of the archers had hit her with an arrow and she had fallen off the ostrich-horse and knocked herself unconscious. Not knowing the extent of her injury, he had fought the soldiers off as much as he was able before fleeing with her on Scratch. Thankfully, he had managed to lose their pursuers in the forest and was able to bandage her wound to stop her from bleeding to death.

Katara frowned, still thinking about all that he had disclosed. She couldn't help but feel a conflicting rush of emotions for the boy seated in front of her. Unlike her, he had always known her identity. There had been no mystery, no possibilities—just the simple fact that she was a waterbender, an enemy, and a friend of the Avatar. Yet he had never hesitated in helping her when she was in trouble. Admittedly, he hadn't wanted to travel with her either after they had first fought those outlaws together, but it had not taken much to change his mind. For whatever reason, he had chosen to trust her. It was a humbling realisation, for she could not say whether she would have done the same in his position.

She sighed and relaxed against him, staring out at the grassy plains that surrounded them. Her mind was still struggling to make sense of everything when Scratch came to a sudden halt.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up a little straighter. "Why have we stopped?"

Zuko pointed to the ground where various marks had been imprinted into the earth. "The tracks have split again, but this time the eel-hound footprints haven't circled back to meet up with the tank."

"So, which do we follow?"

For answer, he nudged Scratch into action and they started following the three sets of eel-hound tracks. Katara didn't need to ask to know what he was thinking. They were getting closer. Closer to his sister, but also closer to her brother and friends.

"Zuko," she said after a moment.

"Mm?"

"Did you really mean what you said earlier this morning? About how you never wanted to hurt Aang."

He was quiet for a moment, and she was about give up on him responding at all when he finally spoke.

"Do you remember when I told you that I had to capture the Avatar to restore my honour?"

Katara rested her cheek against his back. "Yeah."

She also remembered a lot of other things about that night, like how he had tried to use her mother's necklace to bargain with her for Aang's whereabouts.

Zuko let out a small breath. "Well, that's just it. I was banished from the Fire Nation when I was thirteen. The only way that punishment can be revoked is if I bring the Avatar back to my father."

Her eyes widened. "But that must have been years ago, and back then no one had even seen or heard anything about the Avatar for a hundred years. Why would the Fire Lord set you such an impossible task?"

Zuko remained silent, though she felt the way his body tensed in defence as if trying to block out her words. Katara supposed it wasn't a fair question. No doubt he had spent many hours pondering the same thing, but somehow he must have convinced himself that his father had meant well; that the task he had been given was not so impossible after all. She didn't know if such loyalty was admirable or pathetic, but it did make her understand the prince and his motives a bit more, even if she didn't approve of all of his decisions. Put simply, he had been desperate. Desperate and homesick, but it still made her wonder.

"Zuko?"

"What?" he said tiredly, still looking ahead.

Katara bit her lip. "You said you can't return home if you don't bring Aang with you, right?"

"Yeah."

"Does that mean you still plan on capturing him?"

Again, he was quiet. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for his answer, but he just urged Scratch to run faster.

"Zuko?"

"I don't know, alright!" he snapped, gripping the reins tight. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. All of the Fire Nation thinks I'm a traitor, my sister tells me nothing but lies, and I don't even know where my uncle is now." His voice turned hard and bitter. "The only thing I know for certain is that I can't let Azula capture the Avatar. I refuse to let her have that satisfaction."

Katara felt something sink inside her, though a part of her wondered why she had expected him to respond otherwise. He had never professed to have changed sides; he had simply agreed to help her find her friends because she was lost and he needed to get Scratch back from those outlaws. But then maybe that was the point. She was beginning to realise that Blue and Zuko were not so different after all, that the masked persona had only disguised his face and not his personality. It bothered her that he was still contemplating capturing Aang, even if it did mean he could return home and regain his birthright as the prince of the Fire Nation.

It bothered her that she even cared.


	6. Little Impulses

The sun had faded quickly, lost to the dusky colours stretching forth over the sky and veiling the world in shadow. Katara could barely make out the eel-hound tracks they were supposed to be following. She doubted Zuko was doing any better, even with his freakish night vision skills.

"Maybe we should stop for the night," she suggested, however reluctantly.

She could feel in her bones that they were getting closer to her brother and friends, but she was also a pragmatic girl. There wasn't much point trying to travel farther if they couldn't see the marks on the ground to guide their path.

"If we stop now, we might lose any distance we gained today," Zuko argued, still keeping Scratch in motion. "We've already had too many setbacks. I say we should just push ahead while we can."

"It's getting darker by the second and the moon is barely visible tonight! How do you propose we find the others if we can't even see the tracks?"

"I'm a firebender."

She let out a snort. "Right. You'll just firebend us a light and give away our position to everyone in the vicinity. Why don't you put a target on our heads with a sign that says 'free shot' while you're at it?"

Zuko was silent for a moment, no doubt recognising the logic behind her sarcasm, but he was still too proud to admit that he had not thought his plan through properly. Fortunately for him, Katara was used to dealing with teenage boys who turned sulky and stubborn when their grand schemes didn't turn out to be quite so brilliant upon reflection. So, instead of berating him further, she just sighed and softened her tone.

"Look, I don't want to stop either. That's my brother and friends out there being chased by your crazy sister, but we need to be realistic. We won't be able to follow the tracks for much longer, and we'll probably just waste more time trying to find the trail than we would actually getting anywhere. Plus, Scratch is exhausted from running for hours, and I know you're probably just as tired and hungry as me, even if you don't want to admit it. All of us could do with a rest, especially if your plan is to fight your sister when we catch up with them."

Again, Zuko said nothing, but this time his silence seemed less sullen as it did contemplative. "Fine," he said, tugging at Scratch's reins to steer the ostrich-horse towards the wall of trees on their right. "We'll set up camp in the forest. At least we'll have some cover there."

Katara made a small sound of agreement, also not liking the idea of staying out on the plains where they were exposed to any watching eye. She had not forgotten about the Fire Nation soldiers who had ambushed them earlier that day and shot her with an arrow—or that it was Zuko who had got her away to safety. Everything had got so complicated since then. She had certainly never thought that knowing the Blue Spirit's true identity would only leave her with more questions than answers.

Her musings were cut short as Zuko pulled Scratch to a halt once they came to a small clearing in the forest. The two benders slid off the ostrich-horse and began setting up camp. Not that there was much to organise. They had no tent, only one blanket, and a bag of food, which Zuko had stolen. They couldn't even risk making a fire since they had no desire to signal their position to any lurking enemies. Katara realised they would have to rely on the shelter of the trees and their own body heat to stay warm, as the night was a cold one and she was used to being bundled up in her sleeping bag. Her treacherous stomach fluttered at the thought of lying down close to him again, but the more logical part of her brain told her that she was being stupid.

_This is the same boy who tied you to a tree and knocked you out at the Spirit Oasis because he wanted to capture Aang! You need to get a grip!_

Yet even as Katara accepted the force of this argument, she couldn't help but remember how the Blue Spirit had stood by her in the cave against those outlaws, even though she had become little more than a burden and he could have made his escape. She remembered how he had brushed his fingers against her cheek, so gentle and feather-light to remind her to heal her bruise, as if it truly bothered him to see her hurt. It was frustrating, for in her heart she knew there could be no black and white now. No matter how many bad things Zuko had done in the past, he was also the Blue Spirit, and the masked warrior had done just as much good to counter those previous deeds.

Her gaze flickered to Zuko, taking in his scarred face and weary expression. He looked so tired, with dark shadows rimming his eyes and his cheeks had a slightly gaunt look about them. But that fire of determination was still there burning in his pale gold irises. Even when he was about to break, he was still fighting. She wondered if he had ever stopped.

_"I was banished from the Fire Nation when I was thirteen. The only way that punishment can be revoked is if I bring the Avatar back to my father."_

Katara sighed and looked the other way. "I'm going to see if I can find us some water," she muttered, already moving towards the trees.

"Make sure y—"

"I know, I know," she interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "I'll be careful."

She passed through the barrier of trees and started weaving her way through the scrub and branches, trying to use her affinity with her element to seek out a water source. It would be nice to have a wash and a proper drink, but mostly she just needed some space to clear her head. Being around Zuko was making her emotions feel all jumbled and tangled. She'd never be able to unravel anything with him around.

A trickling, gurgling noise reached her ears, whispering of fluid motion. She paused and listened for a moment, then quickly turned to follow the sound. It was not long before she came across a small stream that connected and fell like tiny waterfalls along the forest floor, gathering in a pool of water that was rimmed by bushes and rocks. A faint smile curved her lips and she tugged off her clothes so she was just wearing her wrappings and then stepped into the pool, wading towards the middle. The water only came to just below her hips, but it was still fresh and clean, and she was more than happy to sink down into it, washing away the grime that coated her skin. This was definitely what she had needed.

Sighing in contentment, she removed the bands from her hair and let her plait fall free, running her fingers through the loose strands. As she began to relax, her eyes slid shut and she brought her legs up to float on her back, letting her element surround and caress her body. There was nothing that could disturb her peace. Nothing except—

"Katara?"

Her eyes snapped open and she immediately stood up, heart pounding like a wild drum as she spotted Zuko standing on the bank with Scratch. "Don't do that!" she gasped, relaxing a fraction. "You almost gave me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that."

"Sorry," he said, not quite meeting her eyes. "It's just you still hadn't returned, and with all the Fire Nation soldiers around, I just thought …"

He trailed off, still keeping his gaze fixed at a point somewhere above her left shoulder. Katara blinked as she realised he had been worried about her. As if on cue, her stomach gave another of its treacherous little flutters and even her heart tried to get in on the action, quickening to a double beat. She really needed to get a handle on that.

"Well, I'm fine," she responded, folding her arms under her breasts. "I was just washing."

"Yeah, I realised that." He still had yet to look at her properly.

Katara tilted her head to the side. "Is something wrong?"

Zuko's unscarred cheek burned a dull pink. "What? No! I was just—I mean—" He swallowed visibly and tugged at his collar. "I should go. Now. So you can finish bathing."

He turned abruptly with Scratch and started walking away in a fast yet wooden manner as if his legs and arms were made of rusty metal that had long ago lost their fluidity. Katara's brow creased into a frown. He had never acted like this around her before.

"Wait," she said.

He paused, still keeping his back to her.

"Why don't you join me?"

He swung around to face her. "What?"

Katara shrugged. "There's plenty of room for two and, don't take this the wrong way, but you could really do with a wash."

"I am not going to bathe with you," he said flatly, straightening to his full height.

She laughed. "Oh, come on. What's the big deal? I did it all the time with Sokka and Aang, and it's not like either of us would be naked. It's just like swimming."

"I am not your brother or a twelve-year-old monk." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is ridiculous. I'm heading back to camp."

Katara's mouth curved into a wicked smile. "Oh, I see. You're scared to get into the water with a master waterbender."

"I'm not scared. I just would prefer to wash by myself."

"Right."

His eyes narrowed. "It's true."

"Of course. That's why you refuse to so much as put a toe in this water with me."

Zuko made an exasperated sound. "That's not it and you know it!"

Katara looked at him innocently. "Oh? Then what's the problem?"

He glowered at her for a long moment and then, when she just continued to stare back at him, exhaled loudly and started stripping off his tunic. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, more to himself.

Katara allowed herself a smug smile. Boys were all the same. Question their bravery and they would do anything to prove otherwise. He gave her a sour look, then busied himself with leading Scratch to the water's edge so the ostrich-horse could have a drink. In a grumbling tone, Zuko told her that he was only joining her because it would be safer and easier for them to stick together—nothing else. She turned away to hide her grin, still feeling rather triumphant, but then she saw the ripples form on the surface as he entered the pool and her eyes instinctively glanced his way.

"Oh," she mouthed, conscious of her quickening pulse.

He had removed the rest of his attire except for his pants, and she bit her lip as she stared at his bared chest and arms. Suddenly, her invitation didn't seem quite so harmless. In fact, the pool seemed to have got much smaller with his entrance, making the space between their wet and barely clothed bodies appear alarmingly minuscule and far too fragile.

Katara quickly turned the other way, breathing sharply as something within her coiled and tightened in shy strings of desire. Okay, maybe he'd had a point when he'd said that he wasn't her brother or Aang, because neither of her usual travelling companions had looked like that when they'd all washed together. Zuko wasn't gangly or scrawny and still growing into his muscle; he was a boy on the cusp of manhood, and it was obvious in every defined ridge and plane of his body. Of course, she'd recognised how distracting he could be while shirtless when she'd healed him that one time, but then memory was nothing like reality, and somehow the effect seemed so much more heightened when said shirtless boy was covered in droplets of water and not wearing a mask. She could almost feel her element slipping along his skin, tracing his body in watery caresses and whispering of impulses and yearnings she had only heard mentioned while eavesdropping on the older women back in her village.

Her heart pounded in her chest, so erratic that she could feel the rhythm vibrating in her bones. She needed to get a grip. Right now. It didn't matter how many tingles or flutters she felt; she absolutely could not listen to that voice that told her to turn around and close the distance between them. Not at all. She would stay in her corner and mind her own business, just as she did when washing with Sokka and Aang.

 _But washing with Zuko is not the same, and you know it,_ a sly voice whispered in her mind.

Katara ignored the voice, but the nagging whispers continued to plague her and after a while she couldn't help but turn her head a fraction, glancing over her shoulder at the golden-eyed boy. The air seemed to vanish from her lungs as she realised he was staring right back at her, though the shadows were closing around them in a thick cloak now, making it difficult to see anything much, let alone him. Somehow, the lack of visibility just made it worse, as if by having her sight denied her body had to step up and sense everything for her—every breath he took, every shift in his sinuous limbs. She was conscious of him like she had never been before, feeling his presence like a burning sun of heat.

Demanding to be touched.

Swallowing hard, Katara took a step towards him, barely aware that her feet were even moving. Zuko seemed to go unnaturally still in response, as if her motion had frozen him in place. The pause should have been enough to break her from her trance, but she couldn't seem to stop now, spurred on by the blood pounding in her ears and the rapid beat of her heart. Closer and closer she got until there was hardly any space left between them. Until she was so close that she could almost make out the golden colour of his eyes in the fading light, as well as the taunting curve of his mouth.

"Katara."

His voice was soft, sounding almost like a plea. Or a warning. Her heart thumped against her ribs as she leaned even closer, but then Scratch gave a sudden squawk, and just like that the spell was broken. She blinked and stepped back, suddenly aware of their proximity. Zuko didn't move, but he did stare at her in a mixture of confusion and disbelief, as if he was still trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"I think you're right, Zuko," she muttered, blushing and lowering her gaze. "It's probably best you just bathe by yourself."

Not waiting for his response, she scrambled out of the water and snatched up her discarded clothing before making a hasty retreat. Her cheeks were still burning by the time she got back to their small campsite, and then she just dressed and collapsed on the blanket, burying her face in her knees. That had been too embarrassing.

"I can't believe I almost kissed him," she muttered.

So much for sorting through her feelings. It was bad enough that she had stood there gawking at him, but why did she go and have to do that? What must he think of her? Better yet, how would she ever be able to look him in the eye again, let alone her brother and friends? It was too frustrating, and now more than ever did she feel like the world had lost any sense of solid foundation, leaving her floundering in the grey-shaded tangle of her own emotions.

Enemies were not supposed to become friends. Enemies were definitely not supposed to want to kiss each other. But she had tried to do both with Zuko.

Katara groaned and clutched at her hair, wishing she could just go back in time and stop herself from inviting him to join her in the water, or at least from making such a spectacle of herself. She was still thus engaged when Zuko emerged from the trees—now fully clothed, much to her relief—and leading Scratch by the reins. She sat up straighter, trying to plaster an expression of nonchalance on her face. Maybe if she pretended like nothing had happened, he would follow her lead and do the same. It wasn't like it had been that obvious that she had been about to kiss him. At least, she hoped not.

Zuko paused when he saw her. Though she couldn't make out much of his expression, she sensed that he was doing some deep thinking. He tethered Scratch to a tree so the ostrich-horse wouldn't run, then sat down not far from her. A panicky flutter started in her breast, and she realised that she didn't want him to speak. Not now, and not ever—at least not if he was just going to ask about what had happened back at the pool.

"I hope Scratch got enough to drink," shesaid in a rush. "He has been doing all the work and—"

And she was babbling. She knew it even as the words continued to spill from her mouth like water escaping from a broken dam, but she couldn't seem to stop. Scratch was a safe topic. There could be no mention of heated glances and almost kisses if they just talked about the ostrich-horse, but the flutters of panic were still there when she paused to take a breath, and—and now Zuko was staring at her like she had grown an extra head. Just great.

"First of all, Scratch isn't a 'he'," Zuko said in a slightly amused voice. "She's female. And I guess she got enough water to drink …"

Katara blinked and stared at the ostrich-horse, who stared back at her with accusing black eyes. It was obvious that Scratch was not impressed to have had her sex confused.

"Oh," she said, feeling her cheeks warm. "I didn't realise."

"Well, now you know."

There was an awkward silence. Katara bit her lip and looked the other way, trying to think of something else to say—anything to stop him from bringing up the subject they both knew they needed to discuss.

"Listen, Katara, I—"

"You know, you never did tell me how you got Scratch," she interrupted in a loud voice, purposely drowning out his words. "In fact, you haven't told me anything much of what happened to you since I last saw you at the North Pole."

Zuko sighed and stretched back so that he was leaning on his palms. "It's a long story."

"I have time."

He let his head fall back, exhaling loudly. "Maybe I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not exactly the proudest moment of my life."

"But I still—"

"Spirits, Katara, don't you ever stop asking questions?" he snapped, raising his head to meet her shadowed gaze. "That's all you do: just ask, ask, ask until I feel like I'm going crazy. Well, you know what, I have a question for you. Why do you keep changing the subject?"

"W-what?" She swallowed and fidgeted with her hair. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just—"

"Don't give me that rubbish."

She closed her mouth, annoyed and feeling the panicky flutters start up again in her chest. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not stupid, Katara." He leaned forward, making her squirm at his sudden proximity. "Something happened back there. Maybe you want to pretend like it was nothing and that everything is back to normal between us, but I can't."

She moistened her bottom lip, conscious of the way her heart thumped against her ribs. "I still don't—I mean—"

His hands gripped her shoulders, and her skin tingled where he touched her through the fabric of her clothes—a pleasant, exhilarating heat that left her craving more. "I don't know what it is about you," he said more to himself, sounding frustrated and intense. "I don't know why I keep feeling this way, but I know you've felt it too. It's why you ran. It's why I should have never stepped in that water with you in the first place." His hands slid up her shoulders, skimming her neck to cradle her face. "Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm not right. Tell me you don't feel the same."

Katara inhaled a shaky breath. "Zuko, this isn't—"

"Oh, enough," he muttered, and then his mouth was on hers.

His mouth. On hers. Kissing.

Katara's eyes widened, but they slid shut a second later. His hands were warm against her cheeks, and her own fingers shyly clutched at his tunic, but those were just vague details in a blur of rushing blood and fluttery soars. The only thing that really existed in that moment was the way his mouth moved against hers, a little clumsy at first, but then more certain as they both found their rhythm; the way their breath intermingled as lips parted, and the way her heart pounded faster and faster, beating to a song of his creation.

Zuko pulled back when things started to get a little too heated, resting his forehead against hers as they both took a moment to catch their breath. Katara was slow to open her eyes. She had never known it could feel like that. It certainly hadn't when Jet had taken her to his hut that night, even though the freedom fighter had clearly had more experience. Jet's kiss had been all skill and sweet words—even a little overwhelming. There was no seduction and charm with Zuko. He had been impulsive and awkward, just as lost as her, but somehow they had still found their way. Somehow, he had made her feel like her heart was no longer her own. Like it might never be again.

She wrapped her arms around him and rested her face against his chest, listening to the soothing drum that was his heartbeat. In her mind, she could still hear him telling her that he didn't know what he was doing anymore, that he needed to capture the Avatar if he wanted to return home. She squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her hold on him.

She could no longer deny that she cared. She was terrified of what that might mean.


	7. Family Reunions

Light was just beginning to filter through the sky when Zuko woke Katara with a gentle nudge, telling her it was time to go. They said little as they ate a small breakfast of bread and cheese together, and then they were clambering back on Scratch and making their way for the eel-hound tracks, ready to begin anew the hunt for her brother and friends.

Katara knew that she should have been happy. They were travelling again. Her little adventure was almost at its end and soon she would be reunited with those who had been lost to her. But where anticipation had once glowed inside her, now there was only a sickening dread. Last night had been like a dream. She could still remember how it had felt when Zuko had kissed her: the feel of his mouth on hers and the way her heart had responded to every touch, every caress. She remembered how they had held each other long afterwards, as well as the hushed conversation they had shared while darkness had thickened and closed around them. It had been strange and wonderful, letting her see a whole new side of him.

But then morning had come, and with it the reality of their situation.

Zuko was still the prince of the Fire Nation. He was still banished from his home until he captured Aang, and though they had not spoken of the matter again, she knew that, whatever his feelings for her, he had not ruled out the option. It was the reason she was reluctant to speak to him of his plans now, the reason they had both silently agreed not to discuss what had happened last night and instead just focus on finding the ones they chased. Neither wanted to fight the other anymore, but they both knew they would if it came to that. There simply was too much resting on Aang's continuing freedom. So Katara fretted and ached, dreading the moment when Zuko's decision would be made clear.

Dreading the thought of having to say goodbye to the dream for good.

Time was not on her side. It seemed like they had barely set out before Zuko observed that the tracks had split again. This time a single set of eel-hound prints had gone in one direction while the other two had headed off in another. Zuko and Katara chose to follow the single set of prints, noticing that there were traces of Appa's white fur littering the same route. It was a gamble, for both recognised that diversionary tactics were being used, but instinct whispered this was the right path. Soon, the chase would be at an end. Soon, she would have her answer.

Wordlessly, Zuko quickened Scratch's pace, pushing the ostrich-horse to its limit so they could bring their hunt to a close as soon as possible. Katara bit back the words she both longed and dreaded to speak—words that would have demanded he see things her way and stop his quest to capture Aang—and resigned herself to watching the landscape change from fertile fields to a dusty expanse of brown. She was still debating whether to confront the prince when the small town came into view, looking like the discarded toy of a giant: rundown and forgotten.

"This is it," Zuko murmured, pulling Scratch to a halt.

Katara blinked in surprise. "Are you sure? But—"

For answer, he pointed to the eel-hound that had been tethered on the outskirts of town. A panicky flutter started in her chest. She had run out of time. Azula was somewhere within that abandoned settlement right now, and that meant Aang probably was as well. Even worse, Katara still had no idea what Zuko was planning to do when he saw the Avatar.

Oblivious to these thoughts, Zuko nudged Scratch back into action and headed towards the decrepit buildings. He slid off the ostrich-horse once they reached a reasonably secluded alcove and told her that it would be better if they continued on foot from here. The element of surprise was crucial if they wanted to overcome Azula, and Scratch wasn't exactly good at being stealthy. Katara barely registered his words, following him more in trance than from any real comprehension. In her mind, she was trapped in a frozen state of panic. She should have never allowed her feelings for Zuko to get in the way of her commonsense. She knew she had to stop running from the question she needed to ask him.

"Zuko, wait!" she said in a rush, grabbing his wrist. "Before we go any further, I need to know that you won't try to capture Aang, even if you're given the opportunity."

He made an exasperated sound. "Look, this isn't the time for—"

"Just tell me!" She stepped closer and her voice softened a fraction. "Please, he's my best friend. I don't want to fight you, but I won't help you hurt him either."

Zuko held her gaze for a long moment. Confusion, regret, frustration, determination—it was all there swirling in his eyes. It was obvious that a part of him still wanted to complete the quest his father had given him, to finally regain his honour and return to the home from which he had been banished. But there was another part of him that sensed the wrongness of taking such an action. She just didn't know which impulse was stronger.

He looked the other way. "Katara, I—"

Suddenly, there was a shout from behind them, followed by a streak of blue fire. Katara and Zuko shared an alarmed glance, then started running towards the sounds of fighting. Both understood there was no time to waste.

"That was Aang!" Katara observed, summoning her water from her flask.

"And that fire had to come from Azula," Zuko responded, clenching his hands into fists. "We better hurry."

He sped up as he spoke, leaving Katara struggling to match his pace. She gritted her teeth and forced her legs to move faster, rounding the corner just in time to see a girl who had to be Azula shoot a fireball towards a stumbling Aang. There was no time for him to dodge, but then a jet of orange rushed between the boy and the sapphire flames, colliding with the attack like a shield and diffusing it to nothing. Azula made a hissing sound like an angry fox-cat and spun around to face her new opponent, even as Aang's eyes widened as he spotted the scarred teen straightening from a bending stance.

"Zuko!" Aang exclaimed. "You—you saved me?"

Zuko ignored the airbender and kept his attention fixed on Azula, who seemed to have got over her initial shock and was now smiling viciously.

"Well, well, if it isn't little Zuzu," she observed in a mocking voice, placing a hand on her hip. "It seems you really have gone full traitor now. Protecting the Avatar?" She shook her head in feigned dismay. "Father would be so disappointed."

Smoke trailed from Zuko's clenched fists. "Back off, Azula! I'm not letting you take the Avatar!"

Her smile widened. "Oh, Zuzu, have you forgotten already what happened the last time you tried to fight me?"

"I don't plan on making the same mistake." His eyes narrowed and he shifted into an offensive stance. "This time I will stop you!"

She laughed and shook her head, amber irises glinting with amusement. "You couldn't beat me even with Uncle to help you. What makes you think you'll win now that you're all alone?"

"He's not alone."

Aang made a sound of surprise as Katara stepped out from the shadows, but she spared him only a brief glance before coming to stand beside the prince. Water swirled around her hands in translucent arcs and she slipped into a half-crouch and met Azula's gaze with hard, determined eyes.

"If you want Aang then you'll have to go through me as well," Katara said grimly. "I won't let you hurt him."

Azula's lips thinned into a harsh line, but the smile was back a second later. "Well, isn't this quaint: enemies working together, and all to protect the Avatar." Her voice took on a dark edge. "But it still won't be enough."

In a flash, Azula shot off three fireballs. Katara's heart thumped against her ribs as one set of the flames crashed against her water shield, hissing and dissipating into steam. By the time she had caught her breath, the princess had already shifted into close combat with Zuko and Aang, focussing most of her attention on her brother, but still managing to keep Aang on the defensive with calculated bursts of fire. It was like watching a dance—a cruel, ruthless dance that flashed in sparks of blue and orange but also whispered of the wind. Katara perceived at a glance that the princess was more skilled and experienced than all of them. It was a frightening realisation, especially since Katara had only a small source of water at her disposal, but it was still three against one. If they could just work together, she thought they might have a chance.

Seizing her opening, Katara sent a water whip for Azula's legs, intending to knock the other girl off her feet. As if expecting the attack, the princess somersaulted over the whip and landed back on her feet with her arms outstretched, retaliating with streams of blue fire that went straight for Katara and Aang in a powerful surge of energy. It was too much, too fast. There was a moment where Katara felt the heat of the flames caress her face, even as her mind screamed for her to do something. Then Aang was there and pulling her out of the way, lifting her with him to safety.

"Thanks!" Katara gasped as her feet touched the ground again.

"You're welcome," Aang responded with a grin.

Katara turned to see what had happened to Azula, but she need not have worried for her own safety. It was Zuko whom the princess had chosen to target—Zuko whom she had wanted to hurt all along. The fire had only been a distraction to separate the three of them. Blood pounded in Katara's ears as she watched Zuko desperately try to defend against his sister's assault, losing ground by the second. She shouted his name in warning, but it was too late. A calculated kick, a flash of blue, and then his fire shield disappeared and he fell back against a pile of rubbish and debris in an unmoving heap.

"No!" Katara screamed.

Azula's head whipped up and suddenly more flames were coming towards the waterbender. It seemed the princess had chosen her next target. Before Katara could respond, Aang jumped in front of her and deflected the attack with his staff, then counterattacked with a blast of wind that sent the princess flying.

"I'll draw her away," he muttered to Katara in passing. "You check to see if Zuko is okay."

Katara didn't have time to argue; Aang was already darting off down the street, calling out taunts to Azula to ensure that she followed. A knot of fear twisted in Katara's stomach as she watched the benders leave, twisting and churning in protest against what was happening. She took a step in the same direction, wanting to help so she could make sure that Aang didn't get hurt, but Zuko was just lying there, and—

"Damn it," she hissed, dropping to her knees beside the scarred teen. "Zuko, wake up." She felt for his pulse—still alive, good—and then gripped him by his shoulders. "Come on, Zuko! You need to wake up!" She shook him a little. "I know you can hear me, so open your eyes!"

His head lolled to the side but otherwise there was no response. Katara made a frustrated sound and doused him with some of her water, resisting the urge to scream when he remained unresponsive. She could feel his heartbeat thudding under her palm in a steady rhythm, but it was the booming fireballs echoing in her ears that had her worried. Avatar or not, it didn't sound like Aang would be able to last much longer without some assistance. She had to do something, and she had to do it fast.

"Come on, Zuko," she repeated, giving him another shake. "You have to wake up! Aang needs us!"

The fingers on his left hand twitched. She held her breath, waiting for his eyes to open, but he still remained unconscious. Disappointed, she got back to her feet and glanced towards the buildings where she could see sparks of blue flashing through the gaping windows and holes. There was nothing she could do for Zuko right now, but she could help Aang. She had to help Aang.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, staring back at the prince. "I'll come back for you."

She bit her lip and started running towards the sounds of the fireballs, telling herself that he was going to be fine. It wasn't like that circus freak girl or the knife thrower were around—at least Katara hoped not—so there was no reason for her to worry about Zuko's safety. Besides, Aang needed her. Now was not the time to let her feelings cloud her logic.

Stay focussed, she told herself.

She ducked a crumbling beam, still keeping her water at the ready in case she needed to attack as she made her way through the web-like alleys and abandoned buildings. The sounds of battle were getting closer. She could see the blackened marks and little flames eating away at the wood where stray fireballs had struck; however, there was no sign of Aang and Azula. Heart pounding, Katara stepped around a corner and almost fell backwards when the airbender leapt through the door of a burning house just in front of her, not even noticing her presence as he raced across the street to escape his pursuer. Azula followed a moment later, but Katara was prepared this time and lashed out with a water whip, forcing the princess to skid to a halt to avoid the attack. Azula paused just long enough to glare at Katara and then took off in another direction, clearly not wanting to waste time fighting the waterbender with the Avatar on the run.

"Oh, no you don't!" Katara muttered, giving chase.

She was not about to let Azula slip through her fingers that easily. Faster she ran, water trailing from her fingers and waiting to be unleashed. A glint of blue caught her attention from out of the corner of her vision, but the significance of the colour barely registered to her mind. It was only as she reached the main street and began closing in on Azula that she realised more figures had joined her: three on her left—one of which was Sokka—and two on her right, all boxing the princess against a crumbling stone wall. Her heart gave a flutter of relief when she recognised the scarred face of the boy standing to her right.

"Give it up, Azula!" Zuko said in a hard voice, not once breaking eye contact with his sister. "You've got nowhere to run."

Something flickered in Azula's gaze, but she nevertheless raised her hands in submission. "Very well, I know when I'm beaten. I'll surrender."

No one moved. Perhaps they, like Katara, did not trust this girl who smiled so innocently yet stared at them with such calculating amber eyes. Whatever Azula said, it was obvious that she had not given up yet, a fact that became all too clear when her right hand suddenly shot up and released a spark of crackling energy that sliced through the air like a lightning-forged dagger. For a moment all that existed for Katara was the pounding drum in her chest, slowing time right down to her heartbeat. She sucked in a breath and watched the lightning strike—not her, but the other person to her right.

"No!"

The scream seemed wrenched from Zuko, but the sound also shattered the paralysis that had fallen over everyone. As one, they attacked the princess, creating an amalgamation of air, water, earth and fire that exploded in a cloud of elemental sparks and clouded their vision. Katara gritted her teeth and put more force behind her water stream, yet when the smoke cleared there was no sign of the princess. Somehow, Azula had managed to dodge their attack and escape during the commotion.

"We lost her," Sokka said bitterly, shaking his head.

Katara was about to respond, but just then Zuko let out another cry of despair. She turned to see him collapse to his knees beside the old man, muttering words of denial as he slumped forward so that his face was hidden, fingers curling into the dirt. His whole body was trembling. She could tell by the choked sounds he kept making that he was on the verge of tears. Something tugged at her heart, and before she knew it she was walking towards him and placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Zuko, it's okay," she said gently. "I can heal him."

The scarred teen raised his head, anger and fear burning in his eyes. For a second she thought he might attack her, so lost was he to his emotions, but then he stared at her—really stared at her—and some of the fire faded from his eyes. His fingers closed around her wrist, pulling her closer.

"Do it," he said hoarsely. "Save him."

She knelt next to Zuko and summoned the water from her flask. It wrapped around her hand like a glowing glove and then she was placing her palms against the smoking wound on the old man's chest, trying to repair the damage the best that she could with her bending. The rest of the world seemed to fade away in that moment, existing only as a tangled image of chi meridians and injured flesh, though a part of her was still aware of Zuko breathing beside her, as well as the speculating eyes of her brother and friends. She'd never tried to heal someone so damaged before. As she felt her own energy reserves begin to drain, she knew she would have to stop soon.

Slowly, she removed her hands from the wound. Zuko rocked forward on his knees, peering down at his uncle's face as if expecting the man to suddenly sit up and speak. When nothing happened, he stared at Katara with accusing eyes. "I thought you healed him."

She smiled wearily. "I've done all I can for now. Don't worry," she added when he opened his mouth to protest, "your uncle is going to be fine. He's just sleeping."

Zuko nodded and went back to fussing over his uncle, completely ignoring the others. Sokka was not so easily appeased and marched over to where the two were still kneeling, giving a suspicious glance at the prince before confronting his sister.

"Um, Katara," he said in a voice that was higher pitched than usual, "wanna fill me in?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you too, Sokka."

He waved his arms in a cross-like motion. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm happy to have you back all safe and sound, but, uh, what are you doing with the Angry Jerk? No offence," he added, inclining his head to Zuko.

Katara pursed her lips. "Sokka, Zuko just helped us fight against Azula and watched his uncle get injured. The least you can do is show some respect!"

"I said 'no offence', didn't I?"

She stood up and planted her hands on her hips, getting ready to give him a proper scolding for his rudeness, but the sudden motion made a wave of dizziness pass over her. Black dots swarmed before her eyes and she found herself swaying to and fro like a leaf in the wind, even as a high-pitched ringing sound roared in her ears.

"Katara!" Sokka's eyes widened and he reached forth to steady her. "Hey, are you okay?"

She smiled weakly up at him. "I think I might have used more energy than I realised with that last healing."

Sokka shifted his hold on her so that she was leaning against his chest. "Idiot, why do you always have to push yourself so hard? You're going to really hurt yourself one of these days if you don't start using a little prudence!"

Her smile widened a fraction and she brushed her fingers against his hand, even as her eyelashes fluttered shut. "I missed you too, Sokka," she murmured.

Sokka gripped her tighter. "Hey! Katara, don't you go passing out on me. Hey!"

Katara pushed past her dizziness and met his gaze. "Don't fight with Zuko," she half-slurred. "He helped me a lot and I ..."

But whatever she was going to say was lost as the fatigue took hold, leaving her nothing more than deadweight in her brother's arms. Sokka raised his head from Katara's unconscious form and stared at Zuko, who was now looking at the waterbender in some concern.

"Alright, Jerkbender," Sokka said in a hard voice. "I think you have some explaining to do."


	8. Decision

Sokka had found it difficult to believe Zuko's account of how the prince had ended up travelling with Katara. In fact, he had spent most of the interrogation—ah, discussion—making sarcastic comments and raising his eyebrows to the point where it seemed said brows would pop right off his head. Not even Toph's assurance that Zuko wasn't lying could convince Sokka that there wasn't some ulterior motive going on. No way did the Angry Jerk decide to help Katara simply from the goodness of his heart and to get some assistance rescuing a bad-tempered ostrich-horse.

"You must think we're stupid," Sokka said, folding his arms across his chest and lifting his chin. "Obviously, this is all a ploy to capture Aang."

Zuko made a sound of frustration. "Look, I don't care what you think of me or my motives right now. I don't need to explain myself to you or to anyone else. Now leave me alone so I can take care of my uncle!"

Sokka opened his mouth to respond, but then Aang grabbed him by the wrist and held him back, drawing his attention.

"Just leave him, Sokka," Aang said quietly. "Don't forget that it's thanks to Zuko we managed to find Katara again. The least you can do is give him and his uncle some space."

Sokka stared from one boy to the next and then threw his hands up in the air in resignation. "Fine, but I still don't like this!"

With that declaration, he stomped off to the abandoned building where Katara had been laid to rest, muttering under his breath about how no one ever listened to him, among other less flattering things. Well, he was not going to take the blame if they all ended up trussed like pig-chickens while Zuko waltzed off with the Avatar. Sokka had warned them. It wasn't his fault Aang was a peace-loving airbender who wanted to be best buddies with everyone, nor that Toph seemed convinced Zuko was too busy worrying about his uncle to harm them. Sokka knew better. Firebenders—especially royal ones—couldn't be trusted. After all, that had been Zuko's sister they had all fought against earlier. Clearly, the bonds of family didn't mean much to the Fire Nation royals.

A frown creased his brow. Speaking of sisters ... 

He entered the building and saw Toph standing guard over Katara's prone form. The blind earthbender greeted him with a blasé comment and started picking her nose, looking the other way so as to give Sokka a 'moment'. Sokka shifted to kneel beside Katara and grasped one of her hands in his. She didn't wake at his touch but instead rolled towards him and exhaled deeply. It was obvious there was nothing wrong with her except extreme exhaustion. He didn't like that she had allowed herself to get to that point because of Zuko. Whatever the prince said, Sokka knew there was more behind that account than had been revealed. It was in the way Katara had looked at the firebender, the way she had pleaded for everyone not to hurt him, as if it would only wound her as well. Sokka didn't like it one bit, for he was not stupid.

His sister appeared to have done the unthinkable. In fact, he was quite certain that she had developed a _thing_ for Zuko, and that could only mean trouble.

Sokka sighed and let go of Katara's hand. "Why do you always have to fall for the jerks?" he muttered.

Toph perked up from her reclining position. "What?"

"Nothing," Sokka mumbled. "Just talking to myself."

But as the silence settled between them, they both knew he was lying.

oOo

Wind swept through the abandoned street, flicking up dust in little swirls. Aang shielded his eyes as he watched Sokka's retreat and then turned back to Zuko. A shy smile curved his mouth. "Thanks for helping me back there," he said, rubbing the base of his neck. "You know, when your sister was trying to kill me."

Zuko made a noncommittal grunt and picked up his uncle, though it was obvious by the slight trembling in his arms that it was a strain to carry the old man. Aang immediately rushed to Zuko's aid.

"Here, let me help," Aang said, taking on some of the deadweight as he grabbed Iroh's legs.

"I can do it myself," Zuko muttered.

"Don't be silly." Aang beamed at him. "I want to help."

He got a blank stare for his efforts, then Zuko just sighed and started heading for a building on the opposite side of the street. Aang's grin widened and he matched Zuko's pace so their burden would not be jostled more than needed. In no time at all they were placing Iroh down on the floor. Once Zuko was satisfied that his uncle was as comfortable as possible, he turned to face Aang.

"You can leave now," Zuko said flatly.

"But—"

"Look, I'm really not in the mood for—" his expression twisted slightly "—whatever it is you're trying to do here. I need to take care of my uncle, so go pester someone else."

Aang bit his lip. "I was only trying to help."

"And now I'm telling you to go."

The airbender let out a sigh. "Alright, I'll go." He walked towards the door and then paused, glancing over his shoulder at the prince. "Oh, and thanks again for bringing Katara back to us. We were all really worried about her, so I'm glad she found someone she could rely upon to watch her back." His mouth curved into a grin. "I always thought you weren't such a bad guy. Guess I was right."

Zuko opened and closed his mouth as if he wasn't sure how to respond.

"Well, see you round." Aang grinned and raised his hand in a wave. "Just call out if you need anything. We owe you, after all."

He left on the words. The prince stood there a moment, staring at the empty space where he had last seen the airbender, and then he just sighed. He would never understand these people.

oOo

Katara opened her eyes with some effort. She felt disorientated and groggy, and it took her a moment to get all of her limbs moving so she could push herself into a sitting position. She rubbed at her eyes, glancing around at her surroundings. Decrepit walls, shattered windows, and scattered bits of broken pottery and cloth greeted her vision, all coated in a thick layer of dust. She was in one of the abandoned houses she'd seen in that village where she and her friends had fought against Azula.

"Oh," she gasped, suddenly remembering.

That was right. Zuko's uncle had been injured, and then she had tried to heal him but it had been too much and she had passed out in her brother's arms. How embarrassing.

"I see you're finally awake."

She turned her head to see Toph leaning against the doorframe. "How long was I out?"

"About four hours. Twinkletoes was nearly wetting himself with worry when you just kept on sleeping. 'What if something is really wrong with her?'" Toph mimicked in his boyish voice. "'We have to help her!'" She shook her head. "I thought he was never going to shut up. Honestly, an agitated airbender is the worse."

Katara couldn't help but smile. She knew exactly how frantic Aang could get when he was worried. He was like an airball of nerves rocketing around and talking at a million words per minute. "Well, I'm fine."

Toph nodded. "I know."

There was an awkward silence. Katara fidgeted with her plait and tried not to think about the last time she had spoken with the earthbender. It hadn't exactly been the most pleasant of conversations. There were a lot of things she regretted about that night. Sure, Toph hadn't been helping out with setting up the camp and was basically acting like a big old brat (Sugar Queen, really?), but Katara knew that she had been the one to take things too far, dragging it out like she always did when people refused to concede she was right. Not her proudest moment, especially since Toph was only new to the group.

"Listen, Toph—"

"I'm glad you're back," Toph blurted.

Katara blinked. "W-what?"

Toph's cheeks reddened slightly. She blew the strands of hair out of her face in a frustrated gesture and then folded her arms and looked the other way. "I mean," she said in her usual brusque voice, "who am I supposed to call Sugar Queen if you're not around? Plus, Sokka and Aang can be such idiot sometimes. At least you have a decent head on your shoulders—when you're not trying to go all Team Mum on everyone."

"Um, thanks ... I guess," Katara said slowly, still trying to decide if that had been a compliment or an insult. Maybe a bit of both. She stared at the younger girl, taking in her defensive posture and flushed cheeks. Then again, maybe that was just Toph's way of apologising. A smile curved Katara's lips. "I'm glad I'm back as well, and Toph?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for getting angry at you that night. I was out of line." She held out her hand in peace offering. "Friends?"

Toph stared at her hand for a moment and then punched Katara in the arm. "Friends," she agreed.

Katara rubbed the spot where she had been hit with a pained expression, watching the earthbender leave. She wasn't sure she liked the younger girl's method of displaying affection, but at least they were no longer squabbling like a pack of polar-bear dogs trying to determine the alpha male, or female in this case.

Toph poked her head back in the door. "You coming? Everyone is outside. There's some food here for you as well."

"Oh, right."

Katara pushed the blankets off her body and exited the house, following Toph to where the others had gathered. She blinked when she saw the stars shining up in the sky like pearls scattered on a sea of black. She really had been sleeping for hours. Frowning, she turned her attention to the group. Aang and Sokka were both seated around the fire that had been made in the centre of the street, watching it crackle and burn in dancing flames of orange. Momo was curled up on Aang's lap, and Appa was sleeping not far away, making soft rumbling sounds. Zuko and his uncle were nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Zuko?" she asked, looking up and down the empty street as if the prince might suddenly appear.

Aang floated to his feet with a grin. "Hey, Katara!"

"Hey, Aang," she said absently, and then looked at her brother for the answer she really wanted. Sokka seemed to understand because he let out a heavy sigh.

"He's in there with his uncle," Sokka stated, pointing to a house down the road. "But you're wasting your time if you're thinking of going to see him. Zuko isn't letting anyone in."

Aang's grin faltered. "Yeah. I went to offer him some dinner earlier and he just muttered something like, 'I spent the past three years looking for this kid; now I can't seem to get rid of him,' and then he slammed the door on my face." Aang pouted a little. "I don't know what his problem is. I put a lot of effort into cooking that meal, and I was only trying to be nice."

Katara laughed. "That definitely sounds like Zuko."

Toph stretched out on the ground near the fire. "Whatever. The guy sounds like he has issues, if you ask me. If he wants to hole himself up with his uncle like a hermit, then let him. No skin off my back."

Sokka raised his cup of water in agreement. "Hear, hear."

Katara pursed her lips. "Are you forgetting that he saved my life?"

"Not at all." Sokka took a sip of his drink and sighed in a satisfied way. "Still doesn't mean I trust the guy."

Katara rolled her eyes and picked up the pot of leftover food, plus some bowls and wooden utensils. Then she started walking.

"Where are you going?" Sokka called, sitting up straighter.

"To talk to Zuko," she answered, not glancing back.

She heard her brother mutter something to the others, but she ignored their comments and kept on walking until she was standing outside the rundown house Sokka had indicated. Now that she was closer, she could see Scratch tethered to the fence post, sleeping in a feathery ball. Her heart quickened in her chest and she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Footsteps thumped towards her from the other side.

"For the last time, I don't—" Zuko yanked open the door and then paused, his face reddening. "Oh," he said a bit more calmly. "It's you."

Katara smiled. "Can I come in?"

He shrugged and stepped aside, allowing her to slip past him into the house before he shut the door. The faint aroma of herbs pervaded the room. She glanced around to see a pot boiling over a small fire.

"You're making tea?" she asked, glancing at Zuko in surprise. She hadn't realised that he was fond of the drink, let alone could brew it. He certainly hadn't mentioned as much while they'd been travelling.

"It's for my uncle," he responded shortly, taking a seat beside the old man, who was sleeping on a makeshift bed of blankets on the floor. "He'll want some when he wakes up."

Katara just nodded and took a seat on the ground opposite Zuko, placing her collection of bowls and utensils beside her, along with the pot of leftovers. She was about to ask if he wanted some food when he suddenly spoke.

"I'm surprised you're not sitting out there with your friends," he observed, watching her closely. "I mean, the whole point of our deal was so you could get back to them, and now you've finally been reunited and instead you come here to sit with me." A frown creased his brow. "Why?"

Katara's cheeks warmed. She glanced down at her lap. "I think you know why."

There was a long pause, thick with unspoken words and feelings. Instinctively, she raised her head to meet his gaze and in her mind she could see the clearing where he had leaned close, his lips brushing hers in a clumsy kiss. So impulsive. So perfect. It would be so easy to close the distance between them and recreate the moment.

She cleared her throat and looked the other way. "Anyway, I thought you and your uncle might be hungry so I brought some food for us to share." She offered the pot to him. "The rice is kind of gluggy—sorry about that; I think Aang made it—but at least it's edible."

Zuko stared at her for a moment and then sighed, accepting the pot and picking up one of the bowls. Katara couldn't quite hide the smug smile that curved her lips. He might have turned away Aang, but she'd had a hunch that he wouldn't do the same if she was the one to offer him the food. Sometimes, he could be so predictable.

As Zuko was spooning globs of gluggy rice into a bowl, Katara shifted her attention to the old man sleeping beside the prince. "So, how's he doing?" she asked. "Your uncle, I mean."

Zuko gave an odd sort of twitch. "As good as he can after being shot by lightning. He hasn't woken up yet, but I think his body is just trying to recover after taking such a shock to its system."

"I thought as much. I sensed while I was healing him that I had only managed to lessen the amount of burn injuries and internal damage, but I didn't think he would be fully recovered. I can have another look at him later if you like."

"Do you think that's wise? I mean, you did pass out earlier."

She smiled, touched by the concern in his voice. "I'm not that feeble. Besides, after sleeping for four hours I feel like I can take on anything. Healing your uncle will be no problem."

A crease formed on his brow. "If you say so. I don't want you to overexert yourself on my account, though."

She laughed and reached over to place her hand on his. "Zuko, I'll be fine. Really." Her eyes locked with his. "I want to help."

He paused and held her gaze in that intense way of his, and she was suddenly conscious of their hands touching. Little tingles crept through her fingers, sinking under her skin to fuse with her blood and making her heart quicken. He was just so warm, so inviting, like a magnetic force drawing her closer.

 _Think what it would be like if it was more than just your hands touching_ , a sly voice whispered in her mind.

As if burned, she quickly pulled her hand away. Zuko, in turn, made a big show of spooning some more rice into a bowl for Iroh and then handed her the pot. Neither looked each other in the eye, but she was quite certain that he, just like her, was intensely aware of the tension that continued to thrum between them like little strings of lightning surging back and forth.

Silently, she filled up her own bowl with rice and began to eat, chewing slowly as she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach and the way her body seemed so intensely aware of the boy sitting opposite her. It was as if the slightest shift in his limbs could make her skin spark with energy; it was also incredibly frustrating.

 _It's just Zuko_ , she told herself sternly. _You need to get a grip._

This was not the time to let her feelings get the better of her. His injured uncle was right there, Zuko had been forced to fight his sister earlier—which was bound to have impacted him emotionally, even if he didn't want to admit it aloud—and everything was just so crazy. It was wrong to be thinking about kisses and hushed conversations, wrong to be remembering the way he had held her in his embrace. But she couldn't help but remember, just as she couldn't help but yearn for more.

After all, it was those same feelings that had urged her to seek him out upon wakening.

She stole a glance at his profile and was surprised to find him staring right back at her. A blush stained her cheeks. She quickly glanced down at her bowl. Eating with him was turning out to be more awkward than she had anticipated. Or maybe that was just because she knew what she would rather be doing.

 _Just act natural_ , she told herself. _Eat your food and don't make a fool of yourself._

Too bad the rice looked like a big bowl of Toph's snot. Kind of tasted like it, too. Katara screwed up her face, deciding she'd had enough.

"I think I'm going to have to tell Aang to stick to baking fruit pies," she said, placing her half-eaten dinner on the ground. "Making rice is not his forte."

Zuko's mouth curved into a lopsided smile. "I have to admit, I wouldn't even make Scratch suffer eating this meal." He placed his bowl aside. "It's like tasteless glue."

She laughed. "Knowing Scratch, she'd probably just turn her beak up at it anyway."

"Probably," he agreed.

She met his gaze with a grin, and for a moment she was struck by the way his eyes warmed with silent laughter. Somehow, he always managed to catch her off guard with the simplest expressions, or perhaps it was just her heart falling for the boy she had come to know behind the mask and title of royalty all over again. He was so natural and human. It was hard to believe she had ever thought of him as her enemy.

A crease formed on his brow. "You alright?" he asked. "You're staring at me weirdly."

She blinked. "What? Sorry. I just spaced out a little."

He twisted his mouth as if there was something he wanted to say but wasn't sure if he should say it. Katara felt like face-palming. This whole conversation she felt like the two of them had been dancing around each other on tiptoe, too scared to do or say anything to express how they really felt. It was ridiculous—even more so since they were both aware of it. The silence dragged out between them, and she realised then that she couldn't take it anymore.

"Zuko, there's something I need to—"

"I'm not staying," he blurted out.

She closed her mouth, staring at him through wide eyes. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I mean, once my uncle recovers, I plan on leaving with him. I just—" he sighed and ran a hand through his hair "—I just thought you should know."

Katara swallowed as something cold slipped down her throat, settling like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach. She realised that she had been taking it for granted that he would join their group since he had saved Aang and teamed up with them to battle Azula. To her, that had been a declaration of his loyalties, a sign that he had finally relinquished the task his father had set him and was now ready to make the right decision. She should have known his motives were more complex.

"Then—" she swallowed again, frustrated that her voice sounded so weak and pathetic "—then you're still planning to capture Aang?"

Zuko looked the other way. "I don't know."

"How can you not know?" she exclaimed, slamming her hand on the ground with a thud. "What is it that makes you keep clinging to this path that goes completely against who you are?"

"You don't understand," he said in a low voice. "My father—"

"Your father doesn't care about you, Zuko! If he did, he would have never set you such an impossible task. He would have never sent you away in the first place!"

His eyes hardened. "You don't know anything about my father."

Katara blinked back tears. "You're right, Zuko. I don't. But I do know mine, and he would never treat me that way."

Zuko said nothing and just stared hard at the ground. His hands were balled into fists. Somehow, the sight of him so tense and distressed managed to calm some of her frustration—at least enough for her to recognise that he wasn't trying to hurt her with his words. He was just confused. For three years he had been trying to capture Aang for the sole purpose of returning home. She had talked with him enough to know that even before they had started travelling together, he had started to doubt that conviction he had in his task.

Katara frowned and reached out to place her hand over his, closing her fingers over his trembling fist. "I know you think that capturing Aang is the only way for you to go home—perhaps the only way for you to be happy—but have you even considered what you'd actually be going back to?"

"You don't understand," he repeated, still not meeting her eyes.

"Maybe not, but I do know what you'd be giving up if you go through with this."

His gaze flickered to her face, and in that moment he looked so young and lost. So vulnerable. How could anyone want to hurt him? How could anyone want to send him away? It wasn't right, and she found herself placing her fingers gently against the ruined flesh on his face, overwhelmed by the feelings of protectiveness that surged through her. A breath, almost like a sigh of surrender, escaped his lips and he leaned into her touch, staring at her through those heartbreakingly mismatched eyes.

"You don't have to go back to them, Zuko," she said softly, holding his gaze. "You don't have to let this mission to capture Aang rule your life anymore. You have your uncle and you have me. Let us be your family." She clasped his unscarred cheek with her free hand. "Let us be your home."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly against his. He didn't react at first, but then his mouth began to move, soft at first, but then a little more insistent. Tears slipped free from her eyes, and she trailed her hand along the hard line of his jaw, coming to rest on the nape of his neck as she kissed him harder. Pain, relief, need; she could taste it in his kiss, a raw desperation. His fingers slipped through her hair and she gasped into his mouth when his other arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer so that she was half-sitting on his lap.

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Her body was alive with the pulsing flow of her blood. Their lips met and parted, met and parted, slanting and searching and tangling in velvet caresses, trying to connect on some intrinsic level that went beyond the physical. His hands were everywhere, skimming her waist, her thighs, clutching at her back. Her breath came short and fast, and she dug her fingers into his tunic, his skin. This was nothing at all like their first kiss. This was frantic and confusing and so achingly vulnerable, as if the kiss were stripping them both bare.

She let out a shaky breath when her back touched the ground, feeling the warm weight of his body press into hers. Their eyes met as he leaned over her, both breathing heavily. His hands were curled around her wrists, and to an outsider it could have looked as if he were restraining her, even hurting her. But Katara felt no need to resist. She lay beneath him in open trust, gazing up into his darkened irises.

Something shifted in his eyes and just like that he released her wrists. Suddenly, he was no longer leaning over her but was instead kneeling with his back to her a few paces away, his head bowed. "You should go," he said quietly.

Katara sat up with a frown, trying to make sense of what was happening when her whole body was still humming with pleasurable heat and desire. "Um, what?"

Oh, yeah. That was intelligent.

Zuko's shoulders tensed. "Look, if you stay I don't think I'll be able to stop myself and I just—I need some time to think. And I need to take care of my uncle," he added, as if to remind them both that Iroh was indeed right there in the room with them. He shifted slightly to face her. "I'm sorry things got so out of control, I just ..." He sighed and placed his head in his hands, and when he spoke again his voice sounded drained and tired. "Please, just go."

This time she did understand. It was the first time he had ever said "please" to her, and the sound of the word on his lips, combined with what he was asking, made her realise he was being dead serious. He wanted her to leave. Unfortunately, she also knew enough about him to recognise that she would get nowhere by arguing.

"Alright," she said softly, getting to her feet. "Tell me when your uncle wakes up, okay? I'll do another healing session with him."

He nodded, meeting her eyes for a brief moment. She smiled and squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring gesture, as if to say it was okay (though for what, she wasn't exactly certain. Because their kissing had got out of control? Because he wanted her to leave?). She exhaled softly and let her hand slip free from his shoulder, then made her way towards the door.

"Katara."

She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Yeah?"

He hesitated, struggling for a moment to articulate his thoughts, and then he shook his head. "Nothing. Just glad we made that deal, I guess."

Her eyes crinkled into a smile. "I'm glad, too."

She stayed long enough to watch him move to sit beside his uncle and then she slipped quietly out of the house. A small smile continued to play on her lips as she walked down the street back to the others, but it faltered when she saw Toph's expression. The earthbender looked positively gleeful—if blank eyes and a slyly curving mouth could be considered gleeful.

"Sounds like you two had quite the meal together, judging from all those vibrations I felt," Toph commented in a voice that was too nonchalant to be natural. "Anything you want to share?"

"Nope," Katara said simply, and took a seat next to Aang. "Pass me the water, would you?"

Toph furrowed her brow, no doubt disappointed her game had been ruined, but then she just shrugged. "Whatever."

Katara inwardly smiled. She'd had a hunch Toph was just hoping to stir up some trouble for her own amusement, but Katara was quite content to keep her relationship with Zuko—if that was what you could call it—to herself for now. At least until she heard from his mouth where they really stood with each other. Toph could assume what she liked; it made no difference. What mattered was that they were all together. What mattered was that everything was finally working out. All she had to do now was wait for Iroh to wake up and then she could see Zuko again. Then she could hear his decision to join the group for herself.

Except the minutes kept on ticking by and there was still no sign of the scarred prince. She frowned and rested her chin on her hands, staring at the rundown house where she knew he was sitting with his uncle. Any moment now he would come to get her. Any moment.

 _I'll give him five more minutes_ , she thought, glancing back at the campfire. _Then I'll go check on him myself._

The flames danced in a hypnotic way. Her eyelashes fluttered shut, weighed down by growing feelings of fatigue. When she opened her eyes again, she knew something was wrong. For one thing, the fire was nothing more than dying embers. For another, the sun was making its way across the sky in streaks of pale gold.

"No," she gasped, scrambling to her feet.

Her heart pounded as she ran to the abandoned house where Zuko and his uncle had taken up residence. Scratch was no longer curled up in a ball near the fence, and it was with a sinking sensation in her stomach that she opened the door. The room still smelt faintly of tea, but there was no sign of the pot that had boiled over the small fire, which was nothing more than scattered ashes now. She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.

The house was empty. Zuko and his uncle were gone.


	9. A New City, A New Life

The streets of Ba Sing Se were crowded with people: a bustling organism of life that flirted and yelled, bartered and relaxed, moving and shifting in an endless display of colour and sound. Amidst the shades of greens, yellows and browns, one girl stood out for the blue garb in which she had dressed herself. Atop her shoulder perched a flying lemur, looking this way and that through bright green eyes for any sign of a tasty snack it might snatch from unsuspecting city dwellers.

"Don't even think about it, Momo," Katara said sternly, swatting his paw away from a basket of nuts. "I know you're hungry, but you're just going to have to wait. I won't have you stealing from the shopkeepers again. The last time I ended up having to pay for all the fruit you stole, and—" She paused, meeting the lemur's gaze, who had his head cocked to the side and was staring at her blankly. "Oh, never mind. Just don't steal."

Momo flattened his ears and made a few chirruping noises, which she decided to take as a sign that he at least understood he had been reprimanded. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the little creature, though, so when she spotted the Jasmine Dragon and saw how inviting the establishment was—the smell of brewed herbs and freshly baked food coming from within was mouth-watering—she thought that maybe she could treat him a little. One good thing about staying in Ba Sing Se was that she never had to worry about money. All of their needs were always provided.

"What do you say, Momo?" she asked, glancing up at her furry companion. "A cup of tea before we get back to the king?"

Momo chittered in agreement. She laughed and scratched him behind the ears, then stepped inside the shop. A waiter greeted them at the door, which was a relief since the establishment was so busy. There were people everywhere drinking tea out of dainty cups and talking, but she could see a few tables that had not been claimed.

"Table for one, please," she said to the waiter with a smile.

"Uncle, I need two jasmine, one green, and one lychee!"

Katara froze. She didn't notice when the worker cleared his throat and asked her to follow. She didn't notice anything. Her whole attention was fixed on the young man with the scar, who was dressed in a Jasmine Dragon uniform and speaking to a familiar old man behind the counter. She would never forget that boy's face, let alone his voice, but a wounded part of her whispered that it couldn't be him—not after all those weeks of hoping their paths would re-cross and being disappointed over and over again. Still, the evidence was right there in front of her, smiling and acting as if working in a tea shop was the most natural thing in the world.

In a daze, she walked forward until she was standing beside him, her heart thumping against her ribs. "Zuko?"

He turned his head almost involuntary, as if he hadn't expected to hear his name but couldn't help but answer to it all the same. His eyes widened in recognition when he saw her, and then she was throwing her arms around him and pulling him close. Momo screeched and flew off to look for another perch.

"It really is you," she murmured, closing her eyes and taking a moment to savour that he was solid and real and that this was actually happening.

Zuko tentatively rested his hands on the small of her back. "Katara, what—"

Suddenly, she pulled back. "You jerk! I can't believe you left without saying a word!"

Zuko rubbed the base of his neck. "Right. That."

"Is that all you can say?"

"I'm sorry, I just—"

Someone cleared their throat from behind them. Both turned to see Iroh standing there, smiling with a twinkle in his eye. "Nephew, why don't you take the day off so you can get reacquainted with our young friend?" He leaned closer, lowering his voice so that only they could hear him. "You'll have all of Ba Sing Se talking if you don't go somewhere more private."

Katara had the grace to blush, but Iroh just winked at her and then went back to serving customers behind the counter.

Zuko rubbed the base of his neck again. "Um, I can take you back to my place."

He made it sound like a question, as if he was leaving it to her to decide whether she really wanted to spend time with him. Idiot. She might be upset, but she hadn't hugged him first upon seeing him because she hated his guts. Instead of expressing these thoughts, she just nodded and called for Momo, who was terrorising the customers by trying to sit on an old lady's head like a furry hat.

Lemur back on her shoulder and under control, Katara followed Zuko out of the tea shop and then fell into step with him as they began making their way down the street. He didn't say much, but that didn't stop her from stealing sidelong glances at him from under the veil of her eyelashes. The last time she had seen Zuko he'd looked like some vagabond who'd crawled out from under a ditch: his clothes ragged and covered in grime, and his hair short but somehow still scruffy. Now he was dressed in a fancy tea server's uniform, didn't have a speck of dirt on him (not to mention smelt _so good_ ), and his hair was longer, falling in his eyes in choppy strands of black. It was like looking at a completely different person. Even his eyes had lost that frantic, burning look of determination. He looked calm … happy?

"You really have changed, haven't you?" she said softly.

He paused, glancing at her with a crease on his brow. "What?"

She shrugged and her mouth curved into a half-smile. "Just something I noticed. I guess Ba Sing Se has been good to you."

"It wasn't always. Uncle persuaded me to come here after ..." He shot her a nervous glance.

"After you left me like a coward?" she supplied, but this time there was no venom in her voice.

He winced. "Um, yeah. That."

She stopped walking and met his gaze. "I won't lie. I was really upset, Zuko. You agreed that you would come get me when your uncle woke up, but instead you just left. Even worse, you left without saying goodbye. After all the time we spent together, and"—her cheeks dusted with pink—"after the way you kissed me, do you know how that made me feel?"

He hung his head in shame. "I know. I truly am sorry. I just ... I just knew it would be so much harder to leave if I spoke to you again."

Her heart quickened in her chest, making the blood pound in her ears. There was a moment where they just stared at each other, remembering all the kisses, all the unguarded conversations.

"Well," she said, trying not to sound flustered, "you're lucky that I've already decided to forgive you."

"You have?"

She nodded. Truth be told, it was difficult to stay angry with him when she could sense that whatever he had experienced without her, it had allowed him to finally become at peace with himself. Also, it didn't hurt that just being around him again was making her stomach think it was an airbender and do a whole lot of flips and fluttery soars.

Katara cleared her throat. "Anyway, you were telling me about what happened when you came to Ba Sing Se ..."

"Oh, right."

So Zuko told her his story. By the time they had reached the new apartment he shared with his uncle and he had brewed them both some tea (and given Momo some fruit to munch on), she had learnt all about his experiences in Ba Sing Se. How he had seen it as a prison. How he had still felt a nagging urge to capture the Avatar to claim the life he had lost, even as he made a new one as a refugee. How he had been forced to protect his uncle against the freedom fighter, Jet. How he had met a girl named Jin but had only been reminded of Katara. How he had rescued the Avatar's bison, thinking he finally had his chance to fulfil his mission, but then let the creature go.

How he had realised that he didn't want to follow the destiny his father had given him anymore.

Katara listened attentively, asking a few questions when necessary (she'd had a lot concerning the cute brunette named Jin), and as she did, the last fragments of her bitterness and hurt melted away. She understood that Zuko had been confused and had to figure out what he really wanted for himself. Now, it seemed, he finally had. He had made a new life for himself in Ba Sing Se as a tea server. It wasn't exactly the equivalent of ruling the Fire Nation, but it was better than wasting more years on a task that had only crushed him body and soul.

"The moment I stopped feeling like I had to keep chasing the Avatar, it was like a huge weight was taken off my shoulders," he confessed, sitting opposite her on a cushion on the floor. "I realised that you and my uncle were right: all this time I've just been doing what my father expected of me, but in the process I was losing myself." He stared down at his hands and his voice dropped to the barest whisper. "I've done so many bad things."

Katara placed her empty cup on the low table and moved closer to him, wrapping her arms tight around him. "It's okay, Zuko. You don't need to worry about those things anymore. What matters is that you're here now and you're trying to do good." She pressed her face against the curve of his neck and shoulder, running her fingers through his hair. "You really have changed."

His arms tightened around her in reflex, returning the embrace. She didn't know how long they knelt like that, clutching each other like drowning sailors clinging to a life-line. She only knew that she didn't want to let him go again, not when she had finally found him. Not when she could feel his heart beating in time with hers, so fast and so alive with relief and anticipation.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered, curling her fingers into his tunic.

His hand found her chin and he guided her face to his. Their eyes met for a charged moment and then he was pressing his mouth against hers, one arm still wrapped around her waist. Her eyelashes fluttered shut and she sighed into the kiss, parting her lips. His taste, his touch—it was exactly as she remembered, but this time he was so gentle. So reverential. As if she were something precious that he wanted to cherish.

As if they had all the time in the world.

Words that she was still too shy to speak trembled on her lips, but instead she gave him one last, lingering kiss and then snuggled against him, leaning her face against his chest as she listened to his heart beat in a soothing rhythm against her cheek. His arms were still wrapped around her and his chin rested lightly on the top of her head. It was perfect. Everything about this moment was perfect. Being close to him, feeling his kiss still tingling on her lips, knowing that he wasn't trying to hurt her friend anymore. This was right. This was how it was meant to be.

But there was still one problem.

"Zuko," she softly, pulling back. "You know I can't stay here in Ba Sing Se, right?"

He loosened his arms from around her and looked the other way. Her brow furrowed and, when he continued to remain silent, she placed her hand on his knee.

"Zuko?"

He sighed and turned back to face her. "I know what you're going to say. You're going to ask me to come with you, right? But it's not that simple for me."

"Because you've made a new life for yourself here?" she asked, feeling her heart sink.

"Yes. No." He shook his head in a helpless gesture. "I don't know. Everything is so mixed up. You're travelling with the Avatar, and you're trying to stop my father and the Fire Nation, and then there's the fact that my uncle is happy in Ba Sing Se and has his shop, and—"

"I get it." She averted her face. "You don't need to say any more."

"Katara—"

"No, it's fine," she interrupted, forcing a smile. "I mean, you're obviously content with your uncle here, and it's not fair for me to just barge in and demand you to leave everything. I mean, I'm just one girl, right? It's not like—"

His mouth crashed against hers, cutting off the rest of her words. She blinked, but he pulled back from the kiss a second later and rested his forehead against hers.

"Sometimes you can be really stupid," he murmured.

Katara's eyes flashed in warning—she did not like to be teased—but he just smiled and brushed his thumb against her cheek.

"I never said I didn't want to come," he clarified, "just that it's not as simple as you seem to think. I care about you a lot, Katara. I _want_ to be with you." He sighed and let his hand drop from her face. "I just don't know if I can do it: fight against my father, my nation. He's still my family and the Fire Nation is still my home. I can't just ignore that, banished or not."

Katara swallowed against the lump in her throat. "It's okay, Zuko. I can see this is hard for you, and I'm not asking you to make a decision right now. There's still a week before the others get back and I have to leave." She placed her hand on his knee. "Just promise me you'll at least think about it, okay?"

"Okay."

She smiled and was about to suggest they go for a walk when Momo leapt onto her shoulder and started chittering. Suddenly, Katara remembered the war meeting and why she had been walking past the Jasmine Dragon in the first place.

"The scroll!" she exclaimed, standing up and sending Momo jumping off in fright. "I completely forgot!"

Zuko followed her to his feet, looking a bit bewildered by her sudden change in mood. "Scroll?"

"The scroll from the Council of Five," she explained. "I was supposed to give it to the Earth King, but then I saw you and got sidetracked, and—"

"Hey, calm down." Zuko placed his hands on her shoulders. "So you forgot. You can just give the scroll to him now."

"Are you kidding? You didn't see the dirty looks those generals gave me when I tried to make a joke during the meeting. They're not exactly the lenient type."

"Is the Earth King anything like my sister?"

Katara blinked. "What? No."

"Then you'll be fine."

She bit her lip. "I guess. Unless ..." Her eyes brightened as she stared up at him. "Will you come with me?"

"Uh, I'm not sure that's such a good idea." He removed his hands from her shoulders. "Besides, I don't think the guards would even let me in the palace. I'm just supposed to be Lee the tea server, remember?"

"They'll let you in if you're with me, and I could really do with some moral support right now."

Zuko pointed at the lemur sitting on the table. "You've got him."

Katara laughed. "I was thinking more of human support."

Though if she were to be completely honest, she just wasn't ready to be separated from the prince. They'd only just found each other. She was afraid that if she let him out of her sight now, he would slip through her fingers like cupped sand all over again. The thought was enough to make her use underhanded tactics.

She stepped closer, tracing her finger along a pattern on his tunic. "Besides, I haven't shown you my place yet. It's a little quiet since it's just Momo and me living there at the moment, but we'd have plenty of privacy…"

A light dusting of pink spread across his cheeks. "Um, well—"

"You could even stay the night if you wanted. I know I would like the company."

His blush darkened. She had to try not to smile as she felt his heart racing in a pounding drum beneath her fingertip. Maybe she had laid that innuendo on just a little too thick—Zuko seemed to be getting a bit ahead of himself there, judging by his heart rate—but if it did the trick then that was no bad thing. Still, just in case …

She trailed her finger caressingly down his chest, stopping when she heard the soft catch of his breath. "So, will you come?" She peeped up at him from under her lashes. "I mean, it is partly your fault I got sidetracked."

"Uhhh." He visibly swallowed. "Y-yeah. Sure, I can do that."

Her mouth curved into a broad smile. "Great, then let's go!" She tugged on his hand and called for Momo, dragging Zuko towards the door.

"Wait," he said with a strangled laugh. "I need to leave a note for my uncle. He'll worry."

Katara allowed this task to be performed and then they were back on the streets and heading for the palace. She felt oddly giddy, like her whole body was tingling. She wanted to believe it was because she had succeeded in getting Zuko to come with her (apparently, he responded well to physical contact; she would have to remember that for when it came time to leave Ba Sing Se), but in truth all she could think about was the way his heart had pounded and pounded when she'd mentioned he could stay the night. It had been difficult not to imagine what he must have been thinking, or to ignore the stirring of desire that kindled her blood in response. She could still remember how it had felt when he'd leaned over her in that abandoned house, his lean body pressing into hers in all the right places …

Her cheeks warmed and she was grateful he was not looking her way to see her blush. Perhaps she was also getting ahead of herself. Best just to focus on getting the scroll to the Earth King.

It was a relief when they finally reached the palace. The guards paid only cursory attention to Zuko, taking Katara's word that he was a friend and no threat to the Earth King. Apparently, being the Avatar's waterbending teacher came with a lot more respect since she and her friends had helped put Long Feng behind bars. Unfortunately, the Earth King was nowhere to be seen when they entered the throne room.

Katara frowned at the empty chair and then spotted the three Kyoshi warriors kneeling at the bottom of the dais. "Suki, thank goodness. Where's the Earth King? I have an important scroll for him from the Council of Five."

The girl in the centre looked up with a wicked smile. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be sure to give it to him."

Zuko flinched and shifted into a bending stance. "Katara, get back! Those aren't the Kyoshi warriors!"

Azula's smile widened and she darted forward with her hands sparking with blue fire, clashing with her brother in an explosion of sapphire and orange flames. Momo screeched and took off into the air for cover, but Katara stood her ground and summoned her water to help, weaving it around her in a translucent arc. Suddenly, one of the fake Kyoshi warriors was rushing towards her in a series of acrobatic flips, moving in a blur of green silk.

 _Too fast!_ her mind screamed.

A fist struck her shoulder in a precise jab. She gasped and watched in horror as her water fell uselessly to the ground, even as the chi blocker followed up with a second attack. There was nothing Katara could do. She collapsed like a helpless ragdoll, paralysed from head to foot as surely as if she had been hit with shirshu venom.

"Katara!"

Zuko's anguished cry echoed in her ears and then there were more flashes of fire, more lightning-fast jabs. His body hit the ground with a thud next to hers, just as paralysed, just as powerless. Their eyes met.

"I'm sorry, Zuko," she choked out, fingers just touching his.

Then something struck her in the head and everything went black.


	10. By Your Side

The catacombs of Ba Sing Se would have been beautiful if they weren't acting as her prison. Crystals glittered like clusters of green stars from the walls and ground, bathing the room in a soft glow. Not far from her, Zuko sat hunched on the ground and stared at his hands. He had barely spoken a word since she had woken up to find them both trapped in the cave. Seeing Azula again must have really bothered him.

She sighed. "I wonder how long they plan on keeping us down here."

Zuko remained silent. He didn't even move, as if he hadn't heard her speak at all. She frowned and picked up a loose pebble, rolling it between her fingers. So much for trying to start a conversation.

Seconds passed, filling the catacombs with a silence that was as heavy as the weight of the ancient stone that trapped them. She exhaled a breath, watching her hair flutter with the gust of air. It made her wonder what Aang was doing at the Eastern Air Temple. All of her friends had gone separate ways: Toph to visit her parents, Sokka to meet up with their dad, and Aang to train with whoever had tied that note to Appa. No one knew she was locked up in this cavern with Zuko. Only Momo, and she had no idea what had happened to the lemur.

"I should have seen this coming," Zuko muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Azula," he clarified. "I was stupid to think that she wouldn't find me eventually." His voice took on a bitter tone. "She always gets her way. Always."

Katara bit her lip. "I'm sure there's a way we can still get out of here. Don't worry, it'll all work out."

"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter anymore! There's nowhere to go, nowhere to run! Azula will always find me!" He hung his head, black locks veiling his face. "My father will always find me."

She dug her fingers into her tunic, her heart pounding with an inexplicable fear. "What are you saying?"

"I can't do this anymore," he admitted in a hollow voice. "I thought I could change. I thought I could make my own destiny, but I will never be free of any of it." His hand covered the scarred side of his face. "Just like I will never be free of my mark."

She shuffled closer to him, placing her hand on his arm. "Hey, listen to me. You have changed. You've changed so much that I hardly recognise you as that angry jerk who attacked my village all those months ago."

A reluctant smile curved his lips.

Katara took encouragement at the sight and moved her hand to cup his fire-ravaged cheek, turning his face towards her. "You say it doesn't matter anymore if you escape, but there's still hope. We _will_ get out of this cave and make things right, so please don't give up."

He averted his face, slipping free of her touch. "That's where you and I differ. You can see a life for yourself outside this cave, but I don't even know what I'm doing anymore." He hugged his knees to his chest. "I dedicated three years of my life to hunting the Avatar because I was told to. I loved my father and I wanted to make him proud of me so that he wouldn't see me as worthless. Then one day I realised that the thought of capturing the Avatar made me sick. Every time I imagined turning that stupid, bald kid over to my father, I thought of the way he'd looked in Pohuai Stronghold: chained and terrified, like he knew he was facing a monster he couldn't escape. I thought of all those people I'd seen in the Earth Kingdom, burned and wounded because of my nation." His eyes found hers and he reached out to run his thumb along her cheek, just brushing her lips. "I thought of you and how you would never, ever forgive me if I surrendered your friend to a lifetime of captivity and suffering."

Katara inhaled a shaky breath. They were so close now she could see the different shades of gold that made up his irises, feel the heat of him intermingling with the warmth of her own body. For a charged moment they just stared at each other, and then he sighed and broke away.

"So I left it all. My dreams of going home, my desire to make my father proud. I gave it all up, along with my title as the Prince of the Fire Nation. I simply became Lee, a humble tea server of Ba Sing Se." He clenched his hands into fists. "But in the end nothing has changed. My past has caught up to me just like I feared it would, and now I'm right back to where I started, trapped on all sides with only one way out." He gave a tired laugh. "I guess this is what my father meant when he told me that I would learn respect, that suffering would be my teacher. No matter how much I've tried to do what I know is right, I'm still just that scared, thirteen-year-old boy begging on my knees for mercy."

She extended her hand. "Zuko—"

His eyes met hers and she could see the vulnerability, the pain. "There is no happy future for me outside these walls, Katara. I'm just a banished prince with no home and nowhere to go. Nothing can change that."

Something hot stung the corner of her eyes. Slowly, she let her hand drop back to her lap. "So you're just going to give up," she said in a voice that trembled with emotion. "After everything we've been through, you're just going to stop trying."

Zuko looked down at his hands. "My father branded me with fire so that I wouldn't forget what happens to those who go against him. It was a reminder of the power he wields and the path he had chosen for me." He shook his head. "I've been such a fool. I thought I could escape my destiny: the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. Now I see I was wrong. Like my mark, I can't erase my past, nor can I escape who I am."

"But you have changed!" She gripped his wrists even as tears threatened to fall from her lashes. "Look how far you've come!"

He just stared at her with those sad, golden eyes, and for a moment he looked so tired, so shattered. "Can't you see? My father is always going to control me. He's marked me with a curse I can't escape, because the only way to stop following his orders is to fight him, and I"—he hung his head in shame—"I don't know if I can."

_Because I'm still his son. Because some scars run too deep._

The unspoken words lingered between them, making her heart ache for this boy who had been so hurt and abused, even though all he had ever wanted to do was the right thing. He had no idea of the strength he could wield, the strength she had seen him show in those moments where he had struggled free of the shackles his father had created. As the Blue Spirit, Zuko had been able to do whatever and be whoever he wanted. He had proven himself to be a true hero in her eyes, full of determination and courage. Now there was no mask to hide behind. Now he was just Zuko: scarred, banished, and broken, and she could see that he was losing hope.

He was losing all faith in himself.

But Katara knew better. Because she could see that the heart that drummed inside his chest was the same as that of the masked warrior who had been her silent companion; that the hands that had cupped her cheeks as he kissed her were the same as those that had wielded dual dao swords to save her life. Zuko was the Blue Spirit, and in that she knew he was wrong to think there was no hope. She just had to make him view himself the way she did: as someone strong and beautiful. Someone who was capable of great courage despite his vulnerability.

"Maybe you could be free of it," she said, shifting onto her knees and looking at him earnestly.

A crease formed on his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"Your mark. Maybe you can be free of it. I have healing powers—you've seen me use them before."

Zuko shook his head. "It's a scar. It can't be healed."

"You don't know that." She leaned closer, pulling the blue bottle out from inside her tunic. "This is water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. It has special healing properties." She gripped his hand. "I think it might be able to heal you."

Zuko's fingers trembled within her hold. "Katara, you can't possibly want to waste this on me. You don't even know if it will work."

"It doesn't matter. You think that you've been cursed because of the mark your father has given you, that you will never be free to live the life you want. Well, I'm going to show you that you're wrong." She smiled through her tears, gripping his hand tight. "I'm going to heal you, Zuko."

His gaze sought hers and she could see the fragile hope blossoming within him like the pale shades of dawn. For a moment they just stared at each other, hands still clasped while her free hand clutched the vial of Spirit Water. One breath, two breaths. The seconds passed and then Zuko bowed his head and closed his eyes. It was a quiet act of surrender. Her heart thumped against her ribs as she reached out to touch his scar, letting her fingers caress the warped, ruined flesh.

So much pain. So much hurt. She didn't know if she could heal it—this scar that went beyond flesh and bone to the battered, lost soul within. She just knew that she had to try, if not for her own peace of mind then at least for Zuko. She would not let him give up on himself.

Sucking in a deep breath, she uncorked the bottle hanging around her neck and let the Spirit Water surround her hand where it shone with a blue, mystic light. He flinched slightly as she placed her palm against his scar, but she murmured for him to relax and closed her eyes, focussing only on the power of her bending.

 _Heal_ , she whispered in her heart, feeling the water connect with the scarred tissue and damaged nerves. _Become whole again._

Nothing happened. Her mouth went dry with panic and she opened her eyes. Zuko stiffened a fraction and the eyelashes on his right eye fluttered against his cheek as if he were fighting to stay calm. That was when she felt the overwhelming rush of response from the twisted path that joined with his scar, like a floodgate being released. Energy flowed through her in a dizzying surge, more powerful than she had ever experienced. It was as if she were cradling a gnarled, beating heart in her hand. There was so much life, so much pain. She didn't know where to begin, but her instincts showed her how to smooth out the contorted roots; how to mend the fractured ties of his nerves and command scarred tissue to envelop itself in a new skin—one that was smooth and pale and without blemish. It was a slow and draining process, for the scar was years old and had buried itself deep into his core of identity, but she knew that she could not turn back now. She had to keep going.

Zuko trembled slightly as the healing water spread further under her guidance, working its way into his damaged eye to unseal the half-closed lids and encourage dark lashes to grow from newly formed skin. It was a strange sensation, for the healing light of the Spirit Oasis water blinded her to most of the transformation taking place, but she could still feel it as if it were her own face being healed. The tiny hairs breaking forth like spring buds to arch and curve above his left eye, painting a dark strip that was identical to the one on his right; the way his ear slowly uncurled from its crumpled state and knitted together new flesh, so that it was a perfect mirror of its counterpart. She could feel everything, and it was with a shaky breath that she let the last of the Spirit Oasis water absorb into his skin. His pale, perfect skin.

Katara stepped back, dropping her hand to her side. "It's done," she said with a tired smile.

Zuko didn't move at first, but then slowly, tentatively, he reached up to touch his face. A shudder went through him the moment his fingertips made contact with his cheek. Then he was touching what should have been the disfigured outline of his left eye, his eyebrow, his ear. A choked little sound escaped his lips and he turned away from her, his whole body trembling.

"Hey," she said in alarm, taking a step forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

The dark veil of his hair shifted as he looked at her, but this time there was no crimson slash to skew his features, no cursed mark peeping out through the strands of black. He was whole. He was more beautiful than she had thought possible.

"It's gone," he whispered, almost as if he didn't dare to believe it could be true. As if he thought that any moment this dream would be snatched from him. "It's really gone, isn't it?"

She nodded and her heart ached for the way he touched his face again, almost in wonder, like a child discovering a new texture that was both strange and wonderful. There was such vulnerability in the small smile that curved his lips, such hope and peace.

"I told you it would work," she said, clasping his hand in hers. "Maybe your father did mark you once, but whatever scars he's caused need not define who you are, nor should they determine what your future will hold." She intertwined their fingers. "I believe in you, Zuko. Do you believe in yourself?"

He held her gaze for a moment and then he pulled her into a tight embrace, clutching her close as he buried his face into her hair. She wrapped her arms around him, wanting to feel his heart, to know with a surety that the beating rhythm that gave him life was one of renewed hope and not surrender.

"Thank you," he whispered.

She smiled and gripped him tighter, nestling her face against his chest. It seemed hours that they stood there like that, just holding each other. She didn't want the moment to end, but then he pulled back just enough to cup her cheeks with his hands. She moistened her lips, stomach fluttering as she looked up into his golden eyes—those beautiful eyes that had once been the characteristic of her enemy yet now were the only colour she wanted to see. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his face and pressed his mouth against hers in a tender kiss.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured, resting their foreheads together. "I don't know if I'll ever deserve you, but I'm glad you followed me that day when I lost Scratch. You helped to remind me of who I am, of who I've always wanted to be."

"And I'll keep reminding you for as long as it takes," she said fiercely. "I'll follow you to the ends of the earth if I have to."

Zuko's mouth twitched into a smile. "Is that a threat?"

She linked her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. "It's a promise."

He opened his mouth to speak when part of the wall was suddenly blasted away, sending jagged bits of rock whistling past them and blinding her vision. When the dust had cleared, Aang and Iroh were standing with them in the catacombs, lit up by the unearthly green light of the crystals.

"Aang!" she cried, rushing towards the airbender and throwing her arms around his neck.

Dimly, she was aware of Iroh doing the same to Zuko, but then there was a gasp. She broke away from Aang to see the old general staring up at his nephew with wide eyes, taking in the unscarred cheek and perfectly symmetrical features.

"Zuko," Iroh said with open awe. "How ... your scar, it's—"

"Gone," Aang finished, also staring at the prince in wonder.

Zuko shifted self-consciously and once more touched his hand to his face, as if to reassure himself that the skin had not reverted back to its twisted, ugly state. Then he just smiled at Katara.

Aang's gaze flickered to hers. "It was you, wasn't it?"

She nodded. "I used the Spirit Oasis water on his scar. I didn't know if it would work, but I had to try." Her voice softened. "I don't regret it."

Zuko gave her a swift glance, and for a moment their eyes met, whispering the unspoken words that they were both too shy to confess aloud. Friendship, trust, love. She could feel the emotions blooming between them, growing stronger with each passing moment. Then Iroh was speaking again and the connection was gone. Zuko was averting his face, and Aang was tugging on her wrist, telling her that they had to go, and it was all just happening too fast.

"No!" she exclaimed, digging her heels into the ground and turning back to the prince. "I made a promise that I intend to keep." She extended her hand towards him and flashed a cheeky grin. "Even if that means I have to sometimes force you to follow me."

An answering smile curved Zuko's lips and he closed the distance between them. They both understood he was accepting more than just her hand when he intertwined their fingers. This time there would be no hiding, no running. This time he would embrace his past and future head on, not as the Blue Spirit, but as the banished prince of the Fire Nation.

And Katara would be right there beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If parts of this final chapter seem familiar, it's because I used some sections from the one-shot 'Healed' (taken from the _Sun and Moon_ collection, which you can find on FFN) to describe Zuko's healing process. I know it's kind of cheating, but I felt like it worked.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the story!


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